Master and Pet
by GBTiger
Summary: Arthur Kirkland finds that the only thing worse than being kidnapped by a vampire is being forced to be a human 'pet' of that vampire. FrUK, PruHun, Spamano. Contains violence, smut in later chapters. Uses human names. Rated 'M' for language/themes. AU
1. Capture and Adjustments

Arthur quickened his pace. The night was certainly spooky when you were all alone, sauntering through an empty street that crossed between a large cemetery and a library that had closed for the night since several hours beforehand. There were no stars that night, nor was there a moon to light his path. Peering up into the sky, Arthur could only see gray billows of clouds that gradually inched to the south, flowing with the cold winds that blew from the north. He ducked his head down, staring at his feet that were striding at a fairly swift pace over the cement sidewalks. There wasn't even a mile left in his journey back to his house, so he wouldn't be out in the bitterly cold streets of London much longer.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

The young gentleman turned and entered a gate that led into the graveyard, knowing that passing through it was an effortless shortcut to his house. Just walking straight through the cemetery on a paved pathway that ran directly from end to end would lead Arthur to a street that his house was on. Sure, a house near a graveyard wasn't the most pleasant place to dwell, but it most certainly was the cheapest. The man that had sold him the house warned him that the graveyard was supposedly haunted by despicable and nasty ghosts that loved to torment people, but Arthur had only laughed and told the man that ghosts don't usually reside in graveyards, unless they had actually died there. He continued to inform the man that specters would be far more likely to haunt a house or a residence, but the man gave him a dubious look and a good warning, just in case. Arthur ended up buying the house, since it was a very nice place, after all.

_Maybe that house was a little large for a single man with no family to live in_, Arthur thought, strolling calmly past the graves and ignoring a flicker of movement near one of the headstones, taking it for a raven or a raccoon. _But then again, even I deserve to live in style, right?_ _Maybe if I decide to get married… hm, I wonder who I would want to be married to. Perhaps a young blonde woman, or…_ Arthur's thoughts continued, not even realizing that he was being trailed until his follower spoke up, startling the young man.

"_Bonjour, jeune monsieur,_" the person said in French, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur was about to shy away from his touch, but that would be an impolite action for a gentleman to do. Turning around, Arthur smiled and reached up to remove his hat, tipping it to the blond man that stood before him.

"Good evening, sir," Arthur greeted, not too sure if the man spoke English or not. Nevertheless, Arthur couldn't speak French, so he wouldn't be able to carry out any kind of conversation with a foreign person not speaking the same language as he. "May I be of assistance to you?"

The blond man smiled, and Arthur could clearly see the sharp canine teeth that appeared to be longer and sharper than his other teeth. He had bright blue eyes that sparkled, despite the lack of proper light. His blond hair was tied back with a short blue ribbon, and his long bangs fell around the sides of his face and curled slightly at the ends. The man was wearing a suit that puzzled Arthur, for the reason that it looked like one that a man would wear several hundred years ago. _Perhaps he has a taste for old-fashioned clothing_, Arthur thought silently to himself, but didn't say a word. The man also wore dress slacks and fancy leather boots that covered his legs no more than two inches up from his ankle. "_Oui_, you may," the blond main replied, his English heavily accented with French. "Might I ask your name, _sil vous plait?"_

Arthur paused. "What for?" he questioned, tipping his head slightly to the side. He turned around completely, sizing up the man. Had he met him before? Perhaps he had seen him at a private party, or a business meeting… "Not to be impolite, but…"

"Oh, of course!" The man chuckled slightly. "You must know my name first. My apologies for that." He gave a small, polite bow, and then swung his head back up and grinned at Arthur. "My name is Francis Bonnefoy. I am…" Francis paused, thinking. "I am a gentleman who lives… _near_ here." His emphasis on the word _near_ led Arthur to believe that he may have been lying, but out of politeness, he kept his mouth shut and allowed his new acquaintance to continue speaking. "Please forgive my brashness, but will you tell me your name?"

Arthur gave a slight nod. "My name is Arthur Kirkland. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. How may I assist you?"

"Assist me?" Francis cocked his head a little as if confused, but then his perplexed expression cleared and was replaced with one of cheer and happiness once again. "Oh, yes. _Assist_ me..." His mouth opened up slightly, and Arthur could have sworn that his two abnormally sharp canine teeth extended no less than a few millimeters. "_Oui, oui…"_ Francis murmured, half to himself, but he assumed addressing his words to Arthur. "I have a favor to ask of you, _monsieur. _Do you happen to know where I live?"

Arthur peered at Francis, confused. "I'm sorry, I don't see why I would know such a thing," he replied, folding his arms across his chest in an attempt to keep warm. Did the temperature just drop as Francis took a step towards him?

Francis continued to advance on him until they were only a few inches from each other. His bright blue eyes seemed to change color, almost gleaming red. Arthur was positive that his mind was playing tricks on him now. "You should know, _monsieur,"_ Francis whispered, his voice sounding like frost clinging to a leaf in the dead of winter. "I thought that it would be obvious."

Arthur stepped away from Francis. "I'm sorry," he apologized briskly. "I do not know where you live, but I am not comfortable with someone so close to me. Forgive me."

"Of course," Francis purred, his eyes reverting back to their original bright azure shade. "I was wondering… will you walk me to my house? I shall guide you there." Arthur hesitated, uncertain. "Please, _monsieur,_" Francis pleaded, almost begging Arthur now. "It gets very lonely where I live. There is no one around my house, and I would just love for some company!"

"Alright," Arthur agreed after a moment of thinking. Francis sounded very pitiful when pleading, which swayed Arthur to feel sympathy for him. "I'll accompany you to your house, but I do need to hurry back to my own place." He waited for Francis to begin the walk, and he did, gesturing for Arthur to follow him.

To Arthur's surprise, they began walking through the graveyard, walking in between the tombstones and graves. Arthur cast a curious glance to Francis, who seemed to be perfectly content strolling through the home of the deceased. "Francis, sir… is this the best route to your house?"

Francis smiled and nodded, looking down at Arthur. He's several inches taller than me. "_Oui_, this is the quickest," he confirmed. Suddenly, he brought up a different subject, his question taking Arthur by surprise. "Would you mind if I held your arm?"

"Well… I suppose that would be alright."

Francis smiled and looped his arm through Arthur's drawing them closer together, making Arthur feel uncomfortable. He wasn't used to the companionship of others, especially not a strange young man like Francis with long canine teeth and old-fashioned clothing.

"This is it." Arthur glanced up at the sound of Francis's voice, confused to see that they hadn't arrived at the front of a house, but instead were standing before a headstone, marking the place of someone's eternal sleep. Puzzled, Arthur leaned over to check the name engraved on the cold stone, the moonlight his only lighting. Subtly, he made an attempt to pull away from Francis, but found that the old-fashioned gentleman was holding onto him firmly and refused to let go. Regardless, Arthur let his gaze travel along the engraved words, his emerald eyes widening in horror as they saw the name.

Francis Bonnefoy

1542 – 1566

A vampire finally put to interminable rest here.

"Ah…" Arthur gasped out, managing a weak smile as he turned back to Francis, who smirked back at him. However, the blond man's smile held no meaning, no expression. "This was an old relative of yours?" Arthur questioned tensely. "Pity he died young, eh?"

"Yes, a pity," Francis replied, his voice dripping with mellifluous tones as his sapphire eyes seemed to bore a hole into Arthur's mind. "Mr. Francis Bonnefoy was a very… _close_ relative. Very close, indeed." Much to Arthur's astonishment, Francis swept Arthur in close to his body, and then dipped him down until the back of his head nearly touched the cold grass, his hand supporting him by the back of his neck. "Do you know who I am?" Francis whispered, his sultry voice striking a wave of panic through Arthur. Suddenly, Arthur wanted to get away, far away from this man. When he didn't reply to the question that Francis had asked, the blond man leaned in close to his face, his warm breath stirring the bangs of Arthur's pale blond hair. "Do you know who I am?" he repeated.

"You…" Arthur managed to choke out before stopping himself from continuing. There was no real evidence that Francis was a vampire, long dead for decades, centuries. "You…"

Francis smirked, and then spread his lips apart a few inches. White fangs gleamed down at Arthur, longer than they were when Arthur had first seen them, and their ends were pointed sharply at the ends. "I am…?" he prompted coolly. "Say it, Arthur Kirkland. Say who… say _what_ I am."

Arthur's body began to tremble all over as Francis leaned in even further, his lips grazing the skin on the side of his neck. "You're a vampire," he breathed, wincing as Francis's fangs pressed up against his skin, tantalizingly waiting for the perfect moment to sink into him, stealing his life blood from him and killing him. "You're a vampire and you've been dead for centuries." Arthur flinched, feeling Francis's hand that supported the back of his neck stroke his skin tenderly, his fingers trailing over and over his neck.

"That's right," Francis purred melodiously in response. "I'm a vampire, Arthur Kirkland. I'm a vampire and you know what?" Arthur's eyes widened as Francis let his fangs sink not even a centimeter into his flesh. A stinging sensation followed the small bite, spreading over his flesh throughout the rest of his neck. "You're mine," Francis finished, thrusting his fangs deeper abruptly into Arthur's neck. Arthur opened his mouth in astonishment, but no sound came out as he felt Francis's lips close around the puncture wounds and gently suck the blood from him. It hurt a lot more than he had expected, feeling like a mixture of a burn wound and a cat scratch, melded into one stinging, tingling, painful feeling throughout his entire neck. He hadn't expected it to feel like that. After reading about vampires in his fantasy novels, he had only read that the bite didn't feel painful to the victim at all. However, this was quite the opposite.

Arthur let out a sudden exhale of breath when Francis removed his fangs, ripping them out like a dog would do when tearing meat from an animal carcass. Arthur's blood flew out along with the fangs, forcing the gentleman to turn his head at the sight (for it made him feel ill). Francis lifted Arthur to his feet suddenly, not giving him any choice about what he was to do next. Instead of letting him fall dead on the ground like Arthur had expected, Francis just held Arthur in front of him and looked him directly in the eye. "Does the injury hurt, Arthur?" he inquired. Arthur blinked in confusion. Why wasn't he dead?

"It… it does hurt," Arthur admitted, reaching up to feel the wound, but surprised to find that Francis thrust his arm away from his neck. "Eh? What are you doing…?"

"Don't touch it," Francis ordered, his voice holding a playful tone to it, almost as if he was teasing Arthur. "You can't touch it until we get it fixed up back where I live. If you want to know why, it's just because I'm such a cruel vampire~!"

"A… cruel…" Arthur blinked. "What the bloody hell are you talking about? I'll touch the wound if I want to!"

"No, you won't," Francis taunted. "You're not allowed to touch it."

Arthur reached out to grab Francis's shirt collar, succeeding and gripping the cloth tightly between his fingers. "You bastard," he growled harshly. "I have some questions for you, and I want them answered now. First of all, why am I not dead? Second of all, why didn't you kill me? Third, what the hell is wrong with you? You bite me and then you start to play with me. Is this some kind of cat-and-mouse game?"

Francis smirked, his blue eyes sparkling. _He does look rather adorable like that._ "Perhaps it is like that," he teased. "Perhaps it's not. But you know, you're in no place to be asking questions like that." He reached up and gripped Arthur's wrist, his fingernails digging into Arthur's flesh and letting a few droplets of blood drip down his fingers. Arthur winced at the sharp pain. "Remove your hand, Arthur," Francis commanded. "How deep do my nails have to go into you before you let go?" His fingernails dug even further into Arthur's wrist, and the young man let out a small exclamation of pain. Without even thinking about it, he released Francis's shirt collar and let out a sigh of relief as Francis in return released his wrist, wrenching his claw-like fingernails out of his skin. Arthur gripped his injured wrist with his free hand, staring with disgust as blood dripped from between his fingers. It hurt… "You're mine."

Arthur glanced up. "You're mine," Francis repeated. "You're mine and you must do whatever I tell you to. You can see a little preview of what I might do if you do something as little as boldly grabbing my shirt collar like that and questioning me in a rude manner. But if you do something, like, say… try and kill me, then I might just go ahead and do things to you that… should not be mentioned in polite company." He smiled diabolically at Arthur, who was staring back at him with wide, frightened green eyes. "Do you think you'll be trying that again, Arthur Kirkland?"

Arthur shook his head. He wasn't too sure if he wanted to know what Francis would do to him if he disobeyed him, and he wasn't about to find out. He didn't want anything else to happen to him that night.

"But to continue, I suppose that you have the right to know why I bit you and why you're still a human." Francis smiled at Arthur as he nodded eagerly. "I simply saw how beautiful you looked tonight, with the moonlight reflecting off of those gorgeous jade eyes of yours, and I knew that you must be mine. See, if I want something, I take it. But you are such an innocent young human, Arthur, and I couldn't bear to take your life away from you. You don't want to die or turn into a vampire like me, do you?" Arthur shook his head in response, keeping his mouth shut in fear of blurting out something stupid that would get him hurt again. "So, in return for your life, I think I'll make you my little pet. You'll come and live with me in my house with my two friends, Antonio and Gilbert along with their humans, while you get to continue being a human. I trust that you live alone?"

Arthur cast a suspicious look to Francis, thinking about how he would respond if he was asked that question by any other person. However, given this case and his situation, Arthur only nodded. "I live alone and I have no family here," he replied honestly, having no inclination to lie to his captor. "And if I may ask, will you not call me your pet? I find that to be a very degrading term—"

"What makes you think that you have a say in this?" Francis interrupted smoothly. "I will call you whatever I want, _mon petit lapin_." Arthur opened his mouth, about to ask what Francis's French words meant, but Francis was already replying to the silent question. "_Mon petit lapin_ means, 'my little rabbit.' Go ahead, Arthur Kirkland. Ask me not to call you that. Would you like to find out what will happen to you then?" Arthur bit his lip gently, reminding himself not to speak out. One wrong move and he could be tortured by this strange vampire. Francis peered at Arthur's face, making sure that he wasn't going to reply, and then looped his arm through Arthur's, locking them together. "We still have a few hours until dawn, but I don't want to take any risks," he said softly. "We should get back to my house as soon as possible. There, I can bandage that neck wound of yours." Arthur nodded, the mention of dawn making him feel a little drowsy. When he got back to his house, he would always go right to sleep, but meeting Francis made things a little different. All he wanted was a warm bed with soft pillows next to a fire place, and his Scottish Fold cat to jump up on the foot of his bed and sleep with him… Just the thought made Arthur yawn and lean up against the warmest thing near him—Francis.

Francis glanced down at Arthur, and managed a warm smile. "You must be very tired, Arthur," he murmured, stroking his hair gently. Arthur didn't object. "I'll tell you what… I'm going to pick you up, and you can fall asleep in my arms. Then, I'll take you to the house and put you in a nice, warm bed where you can sleep for as long as you want."

Waking up, Arthur found himself in a warm and cushy bed, his body wrapped in two or three heavy white blankets that were probably stuffed with down feathers. They seemed to be trapping his body heat in, considering the current temperature of Arthur's body. He was sweltering in there! Quickly, he thrust the blankets off of his body, only to pull them back on again, his face flushing with embarrassment when he realized that he was only wearing his underwear. How did that happen? Oh right… Arthur sighed and relaxed back down in the bed. The vampire that he had met the previous night had taken him back to his house, after biting him… Arthur reached up his hand to tenderly touch the area on his neck where Francis had bit him. Feeling around, he could tell that there was a bandage on his skin, covering the puncture wound. Judging from the stiffness of the dressing, it was probably bleeding quite a bit before it had stopped. If he were to look in a mirror, he might find that it was dark red with dried blood.

_Well, this is a load of bollocks,_ Arthur thought, turning over on his side to face the wall by the bed and pulling the blanket up to his chin. He could see a window near him, but the long, thick red drapes were pulled shut, golden drawstrings hanging from them. A bit of sunlight peeked through the sides of the curtains, so Arthur guessed that it was probably almost noon. Since he was in a house with vampires now, it would make sense that they want a dark room… but where exactly was this house? _I don't even know where I am! How on Earth am I supposed to get back home? And what of my Scottish Fold kitten…?_ Arthur glanced up, his thoughts interrupted as the door, several feet from the foot of the bed, opened and a young man, perhaps only a teenager, entered the room while holding a tray and some fresh white bandages. He had chestnut-brown hair and copper eyes that flashed with alarm when he saw Arthur staring back at him in confusion. He let out a small shriek and started yelling frantically in some foreign language, perhaps Spanish or Italian. Arthur was unable to tell if he was yelling at him or at something or someone else. Still carrying the tray, the boy ran out of the room, yelling a name that sounded like "Antonio."

Arthur blinked in confusion, his emerald eyes wide. Who was that boy? And hadn't Francis mentioned something about his friends Antonio and Gilbert? Then maybe that boy was Antonio's human… The boy came running back, shouting in Spanish and dragging a taller man behind him. This other man, having slightly curly, coffee colored hair, also had tan skin and bright emerald eyes that sparkled in the dim light that seeped through the window. He wore a large smile while talking quietly to the boy that was yelling, stroking back his hair and being cautious to avoiding a small haywire curl of hair that stuck out from the boy's head. He was whispering softly in Spanish, which Arthur could only understand bits and pieces of, unable to put together any complete sentence. Even though he had studied both Spanish and French as a student several years ago, he had forgotten most of it.

Now the man had looked up at Arthur and was starting to walk towards him, his hands behind his back and the large smile still on his face. It was a little creepy, the way that he wouldn't stop smiling, but at the same time it was kind of relaxing. "_Hola, señor_. My name is Antonio. Francis brought you in here the other night, and I do not know if he told you about me, but I'm one of his friends. Just like him, I'm a vampire, but we're very different people." Antonio paused, letting his words sink into Arthur before continuing. He motioned to the boy behind him, who appeared to be pouting now while glaring at Arthur. "This is my adorable little human, Lovino. I apologize for his reactions to you waking up, yelling like that. He does that often, and he had no intention of frightening you. You know, you and him might get along, being of the same species. But if you touch my Lovi in any way…" Antonio's face darkened. "…I will kill you regardless of what Francis says." Arthur narrowed his eyes at the obvious but unexpected threat. However, in just a few moments, Antonio smiled cheerfully again. "I will see you later, then. I put Lovi in charge of changing your bandages and monitoring you while you slept. He's going to redress the wound, and then I think I'll send Francis and Gilbert in to see you. _Adiós,_ Arthur!" With that, Antonio simply left the room, leaving Lovino to start inching towards Arthur, clutching the tray tightly with pale hands.

"You're new here…" he mumbled. "Damn it, it's scary when someone new comes. At least you're another human, though. If another vampire came, I wouldn't be able to fucking stand it."

Arthur folded his arms across his chest. "Mind your language, child," he chided. "Someone as young as you shouldn't even know those words. How old are you, anyways?"

"Sixteen. Got a problem with that?" Lovino shot back, finally reaching Arthur's side. "Lie back down, you stupid bastard. It's easier to change the bandages when you're not moving around and talking." Arthur nodded and did so, watching Lovino curiously as he started to remove the once white strips of cloth from his neck and place them on the tray, exchanging them for fresh ones. To Arthur's surprise, the old bandages didn't have much blood on them, but were still marked with the deep crimson blood. Feeling a little ill, Arthur turned his head away and closed his eyes. "You okay, bastard?" Lovino asked, finishing up and taking the tray away from the bedside. "Don't like the sight of blood, huh?"

Arthur shook his head, turning back to face Lovino. "No… it's a little too sickening…"

Lovino snorted. "You were certainly unlucky, you jerk, being picked up by Francis. He's by far the worst, Gilbert being after him. Francis is far too rough with his victims, torturing them physically, playing with their minds a little, raping them if he feels like it, and finally killing them." He shuddered. "Their screams are louder than anything else I've ever heard, damn it."

_He rapes his victims?_ Arthur thought in disgust. _I just hope that he hasn't had any humans before me, ending up torturing and killing them. _"What are… Gilbert and Antonio like, then? I mean, in comparison to Francis, of course."

Lovino shrugged. "Gilbert's okay, but he's super fucking loud and really self obsessed. He's always saying how he's the best and he's awesome and everyone should love him. His human hates him and is always smacking him in the head, though. Just wait until you see that. But Antonio is very different…" Lovino hesitated, as if deciding whether to continue or not. He ended up talking again, brushing his brown hair out of his eyes. "Antonio is always happy, always smiling, and he loves to play the guitar and sing. He's the most human of the other two vampires, even if he is scary when you piss him off. But like Francis, Antonio—" This time, Lovino did stop talking, slapping his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. "See you later, bastard." Quickly, Lovino rushed out of the room, a few of the bandages flying from the tray.

Arthur stared after him. If Antonio was like Francis, what had he been doing to Lovino? His thoughts were interrupted when a familiar blond vampire entered the room, closing the doors behind him and smiling brightly at Arthur. Francis had kept his hair back like the previous night with a blue ribbon, but he was wearing different clothes—today, he wore a white coat over a claret turtleneck sweater with white slacks but the same shoes as before.

"Ah, Arthur, _mon lapin_," Francis sang out, hurrying over to the bed and sitting down on it. "How is my favorite little gentleman doing this morning? I trust that Antonio told you a bit about this place and little Lovino came in to help change your bandages…" He reached up and gently ran the pads of his fingers over the fresh white bandages on Arthur's neck, causing the British man's face to turn cherry-red with embarrassment. "_Mm_, yes, I can see that Lovino did a good job with those. You should be better soon, my darling little Arthur." He leaned over to kiss Arthur's forehead, but Arthur ducked out of the way and shoved Francis hard enough to make him nearly fall out of the bed. "Ah, what was that for, _mon petit lapin?_ You don't push me…"

"Can I please just have my clothes back?" Arthur begged, not meaning to sound like a whining child but finding no other way to ask. He did really want to get his clothes back on, or else he would be walking around in his underwear all day. "That's all I ask for right now, Francis…"

Francis regained his composure and looked Arthur in the eye, his own sapphire eyes burning. "I said, you don't push me," he whispered, his voice turning into ice. Suddenly, he lunged forward, his outstretched hands catching Arthur's shoulders and pushing him back down onto the bed, pinning him in place while his fangs gleamed. Arthur let out a cry of protest, but it was no use. Francis was already reaching to pull away the bandages on his neck—

"Ouch!" Francis let out a sharp exclamation sat up, releasing Arthur and rubbing the back of his head. "Elizabeta, what are you doing?"

Arthur struggled to sit up, surprised to find a young girl, probably in her mid twenties, holding a frying pan out defensively. She had lively jade green eyes and light brown hair, with two brightly colored flowers placed above her left ear. She was wearing a green and white dress, too, with a white sash tied around the middle. "What do you think I'm doing, Francis?" she said sharply, raising the frying pan again. "If you lose yourself, what do you think will become of the poor human there? Apologize to him at once, vampire!"

Francis turned back to Arthur, who was still a little bewildered at what Francis was trying to do to him. "I'm sorry," Francis said apologetically, his voice soft. "Sometimes I just lose myself when I'm angry. It doesn't usually happen, so there's no need to live in fear of me all the time."

"_Doesn't usually happen_," Elizabeta scoffed from behind Francis. "Yeah, it only happens every other night when Lovi starts swearing at you." Francis shot Elizabeta a cold glare, but didn't make any move to attack her, much to Arthur's surprise.

"If you were my human, I would have killed you by now." Francis's words were dark, but his eyes were sparkling with amusement as if he was telling a joke. "You're very lucky that you're protected by the pact that Gilbert and Antonio and I made that prevents us from hurting each other's human pets. Maybe I'll find away to abolish that pact… _Mm_, then I can go ahead and gouge out that tender, female human throat of yours."

Elizabeta smirked, not at all bothered by Francis's cheery tone of voice and rather frightening choice of vocabulary. "Yes, but until then, you're not allowed to lay a finger on me!" She playfully prodded Francis in the stomach with her frying pan. "And don't call me a pet of that stupid Gilbert. If anything, _I_ am his master. No one controls me." Without waiting for a response from Francis, she spun around and promptly left the room, laughing a little. It was a cute, bubbly little laugh that lifted Arthur's spirits.

"Poor Gilbert," Francis remarked, staring after her. "He has to deal with a human like her." He scratched the back of his head where Elizabeta had struck him with the frying pan. He turned his head, looking at Arthur and smiling warmly. "Arthur, darling, if you couldn't tell from what Eliza and I were talking about, my fellow vampires and I have made an agreement that if one of us has a human pet, as in one that we don't kill or turn into a vampire, then the others are not allowed to touch, hurt, or murder that human unless it has been sanctioned with the owner of the human. If that's the case, we might just have a feeding frenzy and rip the human limb from limb and drain the body of blood. Thankfully, we've had no inclination to kill any human pet… yet. Just be a good boy for me, _oui?_ You'll be safe if you follow my rules, I promise."

Arthur nodded, his eyes wide with fear and disgust. Francis wasn't making a very good first impression, speaking of killing him if he misbehaved.

"Oh, right…" Francis reached up and placed his hand suddenly on Arthur's shoulder, making him jump at the sudden coldness of his flesh. _That's right, he's a vampire. He's a dead creature, so of course he's going to feel like ice._ "You'll need your clothes if you want to walk around this house. But I'm actually cleaning them right now, so we can pick something out for you to wear for the rest of the day." Francis gestured to a closet door embedded in the wall to the west of the bed. "The clothes may be a little old-fashioned, but I think we can find something that suits you." He winked in a very charming manner that made Arthur smile a little. In spite of this, the British gentleman was still a little uneasy about how Francis was saying "we" instead of "you."

Arthur managed the most sincere smile he could give. _Remember, be polite. Elizabeta isn't here to save you if he snaps again_. "Ah, Mr. Bonnefoy, don't you mean _you_ instead of _we?_ I… I mean, I can pick out my clothes on my own."

Francis smiled. "And you think that you're independent from me? No, I don't think so." His voice sent a chill down Arthur's spine. "You're my pet, Arthur Kirkland. I decide what you wear, what you eat, where you sleep, and what you call me. I don't want you to refer to me as 'Mr. Bonnefoy," Arthur. You will call me 'Master' or 'sir.' Is that understood?" Arthur nodded glumly, not making eye contact with the French vampire. He wasn't comfortable with the idea of being controlled by Francis, let alone calling him his master. He wasn't a dog, after all. "Good." Francis reached under the blankets and grasped Arthur's wrist, the one that wasn't injured. "Come on out from those covers, _mon petit lapin_. Don't blush like that… there's no need to be embarrassed. I already saw you in your boxers when I took off your clothes." Arthur's blush deepened, and his skin looked more rose colored than peach. "Stand up."

Arthur, feeling insecure about himself, removed the blankets from his body and stood up, resisting the urge to shudder as the cold air swept over his almost-nude body. Tensely, he started walking to the closet, feeling Francis's eyes trained on his back like a hawk watches its prey. Opening up the closet door, Arthur found that it was filled with suits and pants, with orderly pairs of shoes lined up on the floor. Francis reached out from over his shoulder and after a few moments of thinking, picking a maroon-colored suit and pressing it to Arthur's chest, and then deciding on a pair of slacks that were a slightly darker shade and handing them to Arthur as well. "You'll wear these," Francis stated, grabbing Arthur by the shoulders and steering him away from the closet. "When you're done changing, I'll take you out of the room to meet Gilbert and give you a quick tour of the house."

"Yes, ah… Master," Arthur murmured, uncomfortable that Francis was still watching him as he slipped into the clothes, his light azure eyes gleaming hungrily. However, in a few minutes, Arthur was in the suit, straightening out the wrinkles and blowing away a few flecks of dust that had gathered on its velvety surface while it was in the closet. Francis approached Arthur, straightening the black tie for him and brushing his blond hair away from his emerald green eyes.

"You're a very gorgeous human, you know," Francis whispered, licking his lips. "Forgive me and being selfish and taking you all for myself. I trust that you didn't leave too much behind at your previous house?"

"Ah… actually," Arthur began, taking a subtle step away from Francis, blinking in mild surprise as the blond vampire leaned forward with him, keeping only half a foot between their faces. "I had a kitten at home. A Scottish Fold named Iggy… I'm a little worried about him, since he doesn't have any accessible food. There's no one to take care of him now."

"I see." Francis smiled and indiscreetly snaked his arm around Arthur's waist, placing his hand on his hip. Arthur flushed and looked down at the floor, embarrassed. "Well, I can either let you go to take care of him, maybe give him to someone else, risking you escaping, or we can only hope that someone realizes that you're gone and finds your darling little kitten in the house, mewing for food."

Arthur gently pulled away from Francis's grip, but his hand was firmly holding him. "I would prefer to feed him myself, sir."

Francis leaned in, making Arthur wince as his lips brushed up against the side of his neck. "And let you escape? _Non, non_, that will not do, Arthur. I can't have you escaping me, can I? I would have to punish you in a very unpleasant manner, and as much as I would love to see that delightful little face of yours screaming in horrible agony, begging and pleading for mercy, I don't think that you would like that very much at all. Besides, if I accidentally kill you, then I won't have any other human to play with."

_Play…_ Arthur shuddered. What _is wrong with Francis? He's a sadistic monster…_ Hoping to change the subject, Arthur started a new conversation. "Pray tell, Master, when are you going to take me on a tour of the house? I would love to see the rest of it…"

Francis giggled. "Aren't you such a polite little thing? We can go now, if you would like. I don't know if Gilbert's busy or not… he might be messing around with Elizabeta in his room, and I wouldn't want to bother him then." He started to lead Arthur away, his hand still wrapped around his middle. "Mind you, pet, this house is very large. You can't tell from here, but it's a mansion on the outskirts of London. The other two vampires and I wanted to live in England, so… here we are. It's a gorgeous house, if I do say so myself." He gave a bubbly laugh and started to guide Arthur down the hall, pointing out the rooms on the way. "That's where Antonio and Lovino sleep, that's where Gilbert and Elizabeta sleep, and the room that we were just in is where we'll be sleeping from now on…"

Arthur abruptly stopped walking, coming to a complete halt, "I'm sorry?" he questioned curiously. "You mean we'll be sleeping in the same room? Together?" Francis nodded.

"_Oui, oui_." Francis smiled. "There's nothing wrong with a master and his pet sleeping in the same bed, is there? Did you and your kitten sleep in the same bed?"

Arthur flushed and started walking again, picking up his pace a little. "Y-yes, but that is different," he argued. "We're both fully grown men… and you're not even a man! You're a walking corpse with sharp teeth! Honestly…" Arthur hesitated, seeing Francis's face grow cold and hard. Suddenly, he realized what he had said. Being called anything less than a man could offend any gentleman. "Sorry, Master," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to say that…"

"_Regardless,_" Francis snapped, his tone of voice changing entirely. Both of his hands flew up, grasping Arthur's wrists to hold him while he roughly thrust him up against the nearest open space on the wall. "I think that after this, you'll know better than to insult your master like that."

Arthur's eyes widened with fear, his mouth opening slightly to allow his shallow breathing to pass between his lips. "Fra—_Master!_ What are you going to do to me?"

Francis smirked cruelly as he pinned Arthur's hands to the wall on either side of his head. "I don't know yet," he cooed, taunting Arthur mercilessly. "Maybe I should take you down to the torture rooms in the basement, lock you up, and whip you into submission, or I can feed off of you until you faint from blood loss, or, _here!_ Here's a wonderful idea! I'll take you back to the bedroom and pleasure myself with you until you scream for me to stop. Ah, just the thought makes me shiver with delight!" Francis let out a wistful sigh and looked directly into England's alarmed green eyes. "What do you think, _mon cher?_ Take your pick."

"Y-you can't possibly expect me to choose my torture," Arthur stammered, yearning to be safe back at his own house, curled up under the covers with his kitten. "Can you not find it in your heart to let me off with a warning?"

The violent, sadistic look on Francis's face vanished at Arthur's words, and he suddenly looked contemplative. "Well, I suppose…" He removed one of Arthur's hands from its place on the wall and examined the back of it, then suddenly ducked his head down and sank his two fangs deep into his flesh.

Arthur bit back a cry of pain and turned away, grinding his teeth together as Francis closed his mouth around the two puncture marks and sucked out some of his blood, ripping his teeth away after a few moments and looking up at Arthur. "There's your warning, I think you'll have two new scars once those wounds heal… I hope you know just how lucky you are, only having scars instead of death from blood loss by my leather whip." He giggled, while Arthur stared at him in disgust, gripping his injured hand. Francis just had to choose the hand that was connected to the wrist that was already hurt. "I'm the most pitiless vampire of our trio, Arthur. I don't listen to pleas for mercy. And yet, I find myself listening to you…" Francis sighed. "What an odd phenomenon. Oh, well. Shall we dismiss that event? Come this way, _mon cher_. Down this corridor is a bathroom where you can find medical supplies, like gauze bandages and disinfectant. We'll need to take care of that hand of yours so it doesn't get infected." Francis's bright blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he led Arthur into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. "In case you didn't know, vampire saliva is actually a great treatment and prevention of infections. And even though my mouth has already been on your hand, we should just play it safe."

Arthur, still clutching his wounded hand, glanced up at Francis. "I don't suppose you'll let me use any actual disinfectant to clean this up?"

Francis shook his head, a bright smile still held on his young face. "_Non, mon petit lapin_. Do you not think that it is more fun this way?" Without waiting for Arthur to respond, Francis lifted the human's hand to his mouth. He swiped his tongue over his lips before closing his mouth around the wound, dropping some saliva onto the blood-stained puncture marks before transferring Arthur's hand back to him. "We keep the gauze under the sink," Francis informed Arthur, opening up the wooden cabinet to reveal supplies such as soap, toilet tissue, and a first aid kit. "Use it when you need to, but if you waste it, I'm going to punish you. Not severely, mind you." He pulled out the gauze bandage and immediately began to wrap it around and around Arthur's injured and damp hand; only when Francis made sure that the bandages were secure did he put away the gauze.

"T-thank you… Master," Arthur mumbled, stammering out his words. Calling Francis "Master" still didn't feel quite right on his tongue.


	2. Elizabeta and Punishment

"So, for the rest of the house…"

Arthur found that the house was indeed very large as Francis had said; it had three stories, most of the bedrooms and such being on the top floor, the middle floor containing elements such as the kitchen, the dining room (which was more of a dining hall than a room—it was enormous) and the front door which lead into the center family room. However, Francis refused to show Arthur the basement, insisting that if he ever felt the need to punish his 'pet,' then he wanted it to be a surprise. Arthur had no choice but to grudgingly nod and agree with Francis's decision.

"HEY! It's the British guy!" Arthur looked up the stairs as he and Francis had only taken a few steps up them to see a white-haired man, looking like he was in his late twenties, wave to him and leap down half the stairs only to trip and go flying through the air past Francis and Arthur, landing face-first on the concrete floor beneath the stairs. Arthur raised a hand to his mouth, covering his gasp of shock. Was he okay? Arthur's question was answered when the white-haired man leapt to his feet, dusting himself off as if he didn't have a huge red mark on his face. He bounded over to Arthur and grinned. "Yo! I'm Gilbert Weilschmidt! And guess what—I'm a vampire!" He opened up his mouth to reveal two pointed, gleaming white fangs, and then he laughed obnoxiously. Arthur also silently noted that he spoke in a light German accent.

"Ah, hello, Mr. Weilschmidt," Arthur said politely, catching Francis's gaze out of the corner of his eye. _Be polite…. Be polite…_ "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." He extended his hand.

Gilbert stared at Arthur's extended hand for a few moments before suddenly bursting out in laughter, taking a few minutes to finish laughing like a maniac before wiping tears from the corners of his red eyes and looking up at Francis. _He has red eyes_, Arthur thought. _He must be an albino._ "Is this guy for real?" Gilbert asked, still giggling. "Man, that's priceless stuff!" Arthur blinked, completely confused. What was funny?

Francis smiled. "Arthur here is as gentleman. This is how he was raised. He believes in polite respect when first meeting someone. In fact, that's how he greeted me when we first met… _oui?_" Francis brushed his fingers through Arthur's blond hair, playing with it gently while he spoke. "Besides, if Arthur isn't respectful, then he'll be punished. He calls me Master and does whatever I tell him to."

The albino vampire cocked his head to the side in curiosity. "Oh, so? Man, you run a tight ship, Francis. Out of everyone in this house, you're by far the worst." Arthur gulped nervously. Lovino must have been right about Francis being awful. Gilbert turned to the British man and smiled pleasantly. "Kid, I think that you should know that whatever you do, you don't piss Francis off. And also, be sure to do exactly what he says all the time. He takes victims down to the basement and they don't come up." Gilbert's eyes widened dramatically. "Also, don't spend too much time with the other humans. He might punish you for that, too."

Francis smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile. "Alright, Gilbert, that's quite enough. I may be cruel, but I'm not as horrible as you make me sound. _Mon petit lapin_ here will not be disciplined for wanting to spend time with others of his kind. However, if I tell him not to do so… then that is different."

Gilbert let out a high-pitched cackle, sounding something like "kesesese." He ruffled Arthur's hair. "Hey, Frenchie, have you shown the kid down to the basement yet? Arthur, have you seen all of the shit we have down there? It's not like I ever use the stuff, but you know that there's whips and crops and tables that you can be strapped down to and—"

"_Enough,_" Francis growled, reaching out and physically shoving Gilbert away. "Whatever is down there will be kept a surprise for my pet. He'll know about them when the time comes."

Gilbert shrugged, oblivious to Francis's chilling, angry tone of voice. "Whatever. See you around, kid! I've got to get down to the kitchen to get some food for Eliza." With that, he dashed away, leaving Arthur looking up expectantly at Francis.

"Master…" Arthur asked, catching the French vampire's attention. "Master, are you… really that cruel?"

Francis looked down at Arthur, and then let out a small sigh with a smile on his face. "_Mon cher_, that is not something that you can simply ask another," he said, his hand just barely hovering over Arthur's cheek. He began to caress it; gently, his fingernails grazing over the soft flesh. "You must find out something like that for yourself."

Arthur found himself unable to reply, his mind taken in by Francis's penetrating sapphire eyes that sparkled like diamonds. Eventually, Arthur was forced to close his own bright jade eyes, not being able to stand staring into the vampire's eyes any longer, fearing he might be tempted to do something rash, like fall in love.

Of course, he would never fall in love with Francis. Not for a day, not even for a second. He was a vampire, a sadist, an unpredictable monster with a horrible reputation through the house.

Not _ever._

"Open your eyes, _mon lapin_," Francis murmured. Arthur obeyed, having no reason not to do so, and looked up at Francis, expecting him to say something more. "You've already had the tour of the house, _oui?_ And look outside… it's just past noon." He glanced over to an open window by the front door, and Arthur followed his gaze. Sure enough, the blazing sun was already leaning towards the west horizon. " The rest of your time here will be spent inside. You should know that you are restricted to this house and this house only. If you are outside at any time aside from being on the balconies or anything of the sort, then I will see to it that you are disciplined very firmly. Is that understood?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, Master," he replied. "I do understand."

Francis smirked cruelly. "That didn't sound too sincere, pet. Change your tone of voice and try it again."

_Is he just looking for an excuse to punish me?_ "Yes, Master, I understand," Arthur said, hoping that Francis wouldn't detect any traces of sarcasm or insincerity in his voice this time.

"That's not it…" Francis said, his voice almost a soft purr. "The way you call me 'Master…' Do you see, Arthur, it doesn't sound like you believe you are my pet. But we're going to change that soon, _est-ce exact?_" He smiled warmly. "I know of many ways that can force you to sincerely call me Master, you know, and I am in no way hesitant to use these methods."

Arthur swallowed nervously. If he didn't see Francis as his true 'master,' then how could he truly call him by such? It simply wasn't possible, unless he changed his mind and actually agreed to submit to his vampire and become his pet without any disagreement. "Yes, Master," he said, bowing at the waist slightly for effect. "I understand you, Master."

Francis licked his lips as he contemplated the British man's words. "Is that your best?" he inquired, his words making Arthur's heart sink like it was made of stone. Wasn't it good enough? "Tomorrow, Arthur, come down to the basement at ten o'clock sharp. We'll have you begging for your master to let you _die._" The emphasis that Francis placed on the last word made Arthur shudder and almost respond with a sharp retort, but all he could say was,

"Yes, Master."

"If you can say that correctly before ten o'clock tomorrow, then I will not cause you harm."

"Yes, Master."

Francis sighed. "I don't even know if practice will help you, mon cher. It seems hopeless… why don't you go up to the bedroom for now? At sundown, Gilbert and Antonio and I may go out and hunt for humans. Not to keep, mind you; just for food. Of course, vampires can eat human food as well, but only for pleasure. We need the blood to survive." He flashed a pointy-toothed grin at Arthur. "If I don't find a human to my liking, you'll be my dinner tonight."

Arthur didn't reply, lowering his head so that he stared at his shoes. He didn't want the blood sucked out of him, no matter who was doing it.

"During that time, you have permission to either interact with the other two humans or sleep. Otherwise, I won't permit you to do either without specific permission, and if I can help it, you'd have to be on your knees begging to." Francis gave a light and cheerful laugh before ruffling Arthur's blond hair with his hand. "Now let's hurry up to the room, Arthur. We're wasting daylight."

"Ah, Fra- Master, I thought that vampires died once exposed to daylight?" Arthur made sure that his questioned sounded sincere.

Francis smiled down at the British man as he led him up the stairs, his hand wrapped around his waist. "I don't know what kind of absurdity you've been putting into your head, but vampires do not die in sunlight. They are perfectly capable of roaming the streets at high noon if they desire so. However, in the past, humans have not been so friendly to vampires… so we must hide ourselves in the cover of the night so we aren't caught and disposed of. Last time I went out in broad daylight, some human drove a stake through my heart and buried me in that graveyard. The coffin was quite difficult to get out of, and I don't think that I'd like to risk that again."

Arthur pursed his lips together, thinking. "So wooden stakes don't kill vampires?"

"_Non, non_," Francis laughed. "It's quite difficult to kill a vampire, especially if they're an ancient one, like me. I've been around for such a long time, my body has changed so that neither stakes nor fire can harm it. A young vampire, on the other hand, still has the tender human flesh and an absolutely irresistible hunger for human blood that they can't ignore for several years, if they live that long. Usually, those younger vampires cannot stand something like fire, wooden stakes, bullets, or anything of that sort. I was actually surprised that I survived as a vampire for as long as I did, since one of my favorite things to do as a young vampire was kidnap humans, a dozen at a time if I was lucky, and drain all of the blood from their bodies one by one, ending up disposing of the corpses by putting them in a cemetery or forest. You might find it surprising how many people believe that animals drained their blood and not a young vampire with nothing better to do in his spare time."

While listening to Francis speak to him, Arthur hadn't noticed that they were already at the bedroom door. Francis led him inside, closing the door behind him. Arthur turned to Francis, cocking his head slightly to the side.

"Master, what is there to do for the rest of the day?"

Francis smirked, quickly striding over to Arthur and snatching his wrist out of the air, clutching it between his fingers firmly. He was careful not to choose the bandaged and injured wrist, though, probably out of mercy. "You have me to entertain you," he cooed, pulling the flustered Arthur over to the bed and pushing him down. Francis then climbed on top of him, straddling him and preventing any means of escape that Arthur may have devised. However, Arthur wasn't content with their position.

"Get off of me," he said sharply, thrashing around under the vampire's weight furiously. "Francis—I mean, Master, get the hell off of me!"

Francis ignored Arthur's rude remarks and leaned in close to his face, one hand still gripping his wrist. "Pet," he breathed softly. "Isn't it true that a pet should obey his master? Don't struggle, Arthur."

Arthur ignored him and continued his attempt to wriggle out from underneath Francis. "I swear, vampire, if you do not get off of me this instant, then I will—"

"Will what?" Francis teasingly swept his lips over Arthur's neck, close to the bandage. "I'm ten time stronger than you, ten times fast, probably three times as intelligent and I'm in the dominant position. Overpower me, Arthur. Try it. Then watch me abuse that little human body of yours until its life bleeds out in a crimson river."

Arthur glared at Francis for a moment before ceasing his struggles. "Fine," he snapped. "Go ahead and bite me, _Master._" His sardonic tone made Francis narrow his eyes, but Arthur continued. "I'm your pet, aren't I? I'm supposed to surrender to you, offer my body and my life to you whenever you want it, so take it, damn it!"

Francis suddenly climbed off of Arthur, allowing him to sit up in confusion. "You know," Francis said, amused. "You know that I was just playing with you. I had no intention of doing anything to you to begin with." He winked. "So for now, I'll forgive your disrespect."

"Your games are sick," Arthur muttered, lying back down on the bed.

"I'm going to go speak with Gilbert and Antonio. If you need me, come and find me. You're not confined to this room. If you want something to do, there's a small library down the hall, remember that? Feel free to read any books in there if they don't crumble at the touch. We don't read very often and those books are quite old. _Au revior!_"

Arthur watched Francis silently as he left the room, reclining back on the bed with a heavy sigh once the vampire had shut the door. The day was hardly even close to being over and he was already feeling exhausted and faint, probably more because of the blood loss and injuries that Francis had inflicted on him rather than natural drowsiness. Thinking about it, Arthur realized that he had only been awake for a few hours of the day. It couldn't have been that long before noon when he had woken up in this strange and unfamiliar house. Arthur stared at the ceiling, his eyes tracing every crack and dent in the wood. He didn't know how long he lay there, only thinking about what ways he could escape Francis, when a sudden knock came on the door.

If it was Francis, he more than likely would have entered without knocking. However, since it didn't seem to be the blond vampire, Arthur swung his legs around the side of the bed and hoisted himself to his feet, striding over to the door and opening it up to face a girl with long blond hair.

"Hello, Arthur," Elizabeta greeted cheerfully. "May I come in?"

"O-of course, Ms. Elizabeta," Arthur replied, blushing a little opening the door wider to allow her into the room. Once she was in, he closed the door. "May I ask what you're doing here, miss?"

Elizabeta laughed cheerfully. There it was again; that lively, joyous expression of happiness that captured Arthur's soul and held it. "There's no need to be so formal, Mr. Gentleman," she giggled, poking Arthur's forehead with her index finger. "Here, let's sit on the bed. I want to discuss something with you while Francis and Gilbert are downstairs discussing where they should get their human suppers from tonight."

Arthur nodded. "Y-yes, Ms—I mean, Eliza…" He followed the young woman to the bed and took a seat next to her, his jade eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Pray tell, what is it that you wish to discuss?"

Elizabeta's cheery expression vanished and was immediately replaced with a grim, serious one. "I heard that you have an appointment with Francis tomorrow at ten o'clock," she murmured, making direct eye contact with Arthur. Her eyes shimmered like ocean water. How beautiful. "I'm sorry, but there's no way that I can help you get out of that. However, I do feel the need to make sure that you understand what kind of a person Francis really is."

"Lovino and Gilbert gave me some insight…" Arthur began. "He's very cruel and doesn't show mercy or pity… and he enjoys punishing and torturing."

"_That,_" Elizabeta said with a small shudder. "_That _is what I'm going to elaborate on for you. You see, Arthur, Francis has very sick and perverted tastes. He's quite sadistic and enjoys manipulation, playing with people's minds. From what I've heard, the physical torture is like bliss in comparison to the psychological tricks he plays with his victims. Francis tells his victims things, things that make them beg to die themselves. If he's in the mood, he… he rapes them." Elizabeta shivered again. "When he's done with all of that, he finally drains the blood from their corpses and leaves them out in a forest or cemetery." She swallowed and turned away from Arthur, staring at the thickly carpeted floor, her face becoming pale and her forest green eyes clouding. "I saw one of the bodies, Arthur, when Francis was bringing it out. She was a woman who couldn't have been much older than eighteen, and she… she had been stripped nude with several holes gouged out in her limbs, her body drained of blood, one of her eyes was missing, and covered with…" Elizabeta prevented herself from continuing, bringing her hand up to her mouth and closing her eyes, shaking her head back and forth slightly. "Francis is a horrible person, Arthur," she whispered from between her fingers. "I pity you deeply to have him as your master. If the time ever comes that you need me, yell my name. The only time I won't do my best to come and help is when you're downstairs in the basement. I'm not allowed down there, and my master Gilbert said that if I so much as take a step on the stairs, then he'll hand me over to Francis… I'm sorry for that, Arthur."

Arthur placed a comforting hand on her back, realizing that this was the first time he had ever touched a woman in a comforting way. "It's okay, Eliza. It can't be that bad… I'm his pet, not a victim. I don't think that Francis will hurt me the same way that he has the other humans."

Elizabeta looked up at Arthur. She looked like she was about to cry. "I'm sorry," she murmured suddenly, turning away. "I feel like I'm going to cry. I shouldn't be dumping this all on you. You're new here, and any stress isn't good at all…"

"It's fine," Arthur insisted. "I have no problem with you venting your emotions on me, Eliza. You're a very sweet girl."

"_Girl!_" Elizabeta exclaimed, her expression turning into one of mock anger. "I'll have you know, Mr. Gentleman, I am twenty-four years old in two months!"

Arthur smirked. "Is that so? I'm twenty-four three weeks ago."

Elizabeta good-naturedly shoved Arthur's shoulder. "That doesn't mean that you're any more mature than I am," she teased, standing up. "Before Francis comes up, I should be gone. But I'll talk to you later tonight, okay? You seem like a really nice young man. You almost remind me of my husband…"

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but Elizabeta had already vanished through the doorway.

She was a very beautiful and kind lady, and Arthur was starting to take a liking to her.

The rest of the evening played out smoothly. Elizabeta fixed a nice meal of pasta for the other two humans and herself while the vampires were out hunting, who returned a few hours later while their pets were sitting at the dining room table, playing a game of cards. By the time that Francis had ushered Arthur up to his room, following close behind, it was around eleven o'clock and Arthur felt sleepier than he ever had before. While in the bed with Francis, he didn't even utter a word of protest when his master placed his arm around his body and cuddled up to him while he was lulled into a deep sleep.

When Arthur woke up, Francis was no longer beside him. Glancing down at the suit that he had laid out the previous night before coming into the bed, Arthur wondered what he would wear that day. He assumed that he would be allowed to wear anything from the closet, but before, Francis had told him that he would choose what he wore. However, Arthur saw that a new outfit was sitting at the foot of the bed, a note left on top of it.

_Dear pet,_

_Wear this for me. It's cute._

_Come to the basement at 10  
>I'm waiting for you<em>

_-Master_

Arthur glanced at the clock that was above the door frame. It was 9:40. He still had time to get dressed and eat a light breakfast. Quickly, he slipped on the outfit that Francis had chosen for him, the corner of his lip turning up in disgust at the poor fashion taste. It was a long-sleeved white shirt with a black coat that looked almost like a vest since it had no sleeves. There were also faintly striped gray pants and polished black shoes. Not only did Arthur feel ridiculous, but the shirt was quite uncomfortable. It must have been old, because the fabric was rubbing at his skin in a prickly way. Damn. Arthur made his way to the door, hoping to find something good to eat in the kitchen.

To his surprise, Antonio was sitting at the table, sipping a cup of warm water, the glass edges of the cup foggy with steam. "_Buenos días_," the Spanish vampire greeted, smiling and showing off his sharpened canine teeth. "Francis is waiting for you."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, sir, I know that," he replied politely. "I only came down for some breakfast beforehand, sir."

Antonio pursed his lips together. "That's not too wise," he advised. "My Lovino said that you weren't good with the sight of blood… It wouldn't be good if you were to hurl up your breakfast during your torture when you see your blood, would it? Wait until afterwards, when you're not in too much pain."

"Y-yes, sir," Arthur stammered, hoping that he wouldn't be tortured so that he couldn't even eat without being in pain. "Thank you for the advice, sir."

Antonio smiled brightly at Arthur. "You're very polite, _si?_ I wish my Lovino was like that… I just don't have the heart to make him treat me like I'm his master… most of the time."

"_But like Francis, Antonio…"_ Arthur hesitated to leave the room, remembering Lovino's words. However, Arthur brushed them off, knowing that Antonio wasn't able to touch him due to the vampires' pact. He gave a small, polite bow at the waist to Antonio before hurrying away. It wouldn't hurt to get downstairs before ten o'clock.

Arthur hurried into the large living room, glancing over to the old piano by the leather couch. Elizabeta was seated at the bench, her fingers trailing over the ancient ivory keys, Every few seconds, she pressed down on one hard enough to send out a note, but the disconnected noises made no melody and almost sounded miserable to Arthur's ears. Elizabeta was absolutely silent as she played the somber notes. Confused at this, Arthur approached her, wondering what she was doing. "Ms. Elizabeta?" he asked softly.

Elizabeta spun around, her eyes wide, but she relaxed upon realizing who stood before her. "It's just you," she sighed, relieved. "For a moment, you sounded like Roderich."

"Roderich?" Arthur repeated, genuinely puzzled. "May I ask who that is?"

The young woman's face fell as misery shadowed it. "Roderich was my husband," she murmured. "Today was… his birthday. Before, when we were still together, every day on his birthday I would try and compose a song for him. Roderich loved music, which could sometimes get a little irritating." Elizabeta showed Arthur a bitter smile. You're only fooling yourself, Arthur thought sympathetically. It's too painfully obvious how much you miss him. "So," Elizabeta continued, her voice a little softer. "Roderich would come in while I was trying to play a song, and since I just cannot play the piano, he would tell me to sit aside. Then, he would perform the most beautiful piece I'd ever heard…" She sighed wistfully. "Every year, it was the same song, and that was the only time he played it. But I loved it, I loved it very much."

Arthur nodded slowly. It must have been awful for Elizabeta, being separated from her husband by that obnoxious albino vampire. "I'm terribly sorry, Ms. Eliza," he murmured. "I can understand what he meant to you. But I really need to be going right now, see, it's almost ten o'clock. But I can promise that I can talk to you later…"

Elizabeta's face immediately paled. "Oh, Arthur," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I do wish I could help you, but I,, I can't. I'm so sorry."

Arthur reached out and clasped Elizabeta's hands in his own. A small blush spread across her face, and Arthur was almost certain that his own face was turning pink as well. "Elizabeta," he said in a hushed whisper. "You can help." Elizabeta blinked up at him, her eyes wide. She didn't seem to feel the needs to prompt him to continue, because she remained absolutely silent. "Elizabeta, I want you to practice a song on this piano. I'm going to assume that I can hear the piano from the basement, and that will… that will give me strength, Eliza. Now, before you remind me that you think that you're not good at the piano…" Arthur paused, not sure if he could finish his words. However, those sparkling, forest green eyes that begged for him to continue. "Eliza, I think that anything you play on the piano will sound beautiful. So please, play a song for me. Play it until you can't do it any better, Eliza."

Elizabeta kept her gaze pinned on Arthur for a few more moments before suddenly tearing her eyes away from the man to look over at an old grandfather clock by the front door. "The time," she said, pulling out of Arthur's grip. "You have just two minutes to get downstairs. Better hurry, Arthur. Francis might get angry if you're late." Elizabeta turned away and reached up, loosening and removing the flower hair clips that pinned her bangs to the side of her face, letting the shorter strands of hair fall in front of her face to hide the evident blush on her delicate features.

Arthur nodded and started to head to the basement stairs. "Goodbye, Eliza," he said. Just as he started down the stairs into the ominous darkness, he heard a small whisper from the girl.

"Thank you."

Arthur smiled to himself. He hadn't even known Elizabeta for that long, and he was already quite fond of her. He began to think that maybe his stay with Francis wouldn't be so bad, but that was before he laid his eyes on the blood-splattered walls of the torture chamber that was supposed to pass as a basement.

It seemed like every square foot of the basement's floor had some sort of torture device or weapon in it. The floor was littered with razor blades, blood-covered bullets, and to Arthur's disgust and horror, a few human bones; but they were small, so Arthur assumed that they were hand or ear bones. Hopefully, though, Arthur would be keeping all of his bones inside of his body where they belonged. Arthur glanced up at the walls and ceilings. Both had shackles and chains dangling from them, and there was even an empty cage on the ceiling. As he swept his gaze around the room, Arthur found Francis leaning up against a large wooden cabinet that was attached to the wall, a wide, confident smirk on his young face. Arthur watched him warily, freezing up his muscles as he waited for him to say something.

"_Bonjour, mon petit lapin_," Francis greeted warmly. "Have a seat over there, why don't you?" He gestured with his hand to a chair that was covered with gleaming metal spikes that covered the backrest, the seat, and the arms. Leather straps were on the arms of the chair, made to keep a person restrained in the chair while their body was punctured with the sharp points. Arthur gave it a swift glance before glaring at the vampire, who just laughed lightly. "Come now, there's no need to look at me like that, pet, I was just joking. Now, come stand over here, in front of me, _mon cher_." As Arthur shuffled over, Francis raised an eyebrow. "Could I get a "yes, Master" with that, please?"

"Yes, Master," Arthur murmured, coming to a halt in front of Francis.

The vampire sighed. "Again with that tone of voice… ah, well. We're going to fix that, very, very soon." He gave Arthur a pointy-toothed grin. "We're going to start our event with something that I like to call, 'the Cat.'"

Arthur began to feel ill to his stomach as Francis turned around and pulled open the cabinet to reveal a variety of weapons—knives, swords, spears, axes, pistols, whips, and even and old-fashioned rapier, the blood-stained handle telling Arthur that it wasn't just for show. After a moment of surveying his collection, Francis picked out a cruel-looking whip with nine leather strips branching from a single, long handle. Each branch had six knots. "This is the Cat o' Nine Tails," Francis whispered. "It hurts very much when one is struck by it. Since it doesn't take that long to kill someone with, I don't often use it, but it still without a doubt one of my favorite weapons. Now, pet, obey your master and stand by the wall over there between those two shackles. Stand in the center and put your wrists inside the shackles. But before you do that, take off your shirt. If you don't do as I ask right now, then I'll whip you for twice as long." Arthur hesitated for a moment before cautiously pulling off his coat and shirt, exposing his chest and back. Shivering as the chilly air brushed up against his bare skin, Arthur did as he was instructed, centering himself on the wall and sliding his wrists into the open metal cuffs. As he stood there, Francis came up behind him and snapped the cuffs shut, nearly taking some of Arthur's skin along with them. In fact, the cuff around Arthur's bandaged wrist had clamped some of the white gauze between the hard metal.. "Arthur," Francis addressed. Arthur could hear the vampire handling the whip in his hands. "Tell me, _mon cher_. Have you ever been beaten before?"

"No, Master," Arthur's voice cracked in his throat. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. "I went to a Catholic school, but I wasn't hit very often with rulers by my superiors, sir."

An amused tone entered Francis's voice. "Then you don't know what being whipped with 'the Cat' might feel like."

"No, Master, but I can imagine that it will hurt."

"Arthur, _mon cher_, I have some instructions for you." Francis placed his ice-cold hand on Arthur's shoulder, making him shudder a little. "When I'm whipping you, I'm going to ask you to speak. I want you to say what I tell you to say, and failure to follow this will result in more punishment. I will permit you to scream when I'm not telling you to say something, though. Is that understood?"

Arthur nodded the best he could with his face only inches from the wall. "Yes, Master."

"Good." Francis cracked the whip through the air, making Arthur cringe as he expected the whip to strike him. "I hope you're prepared."

_Crack!_ The whip slashed through the air and struck Arthur squarely in his middle back, and he let out a sharp cry at the unexpected pain. Just as the agony began to ease, though, Francis cracked the whip again, landing another blow on his back. Arthur bit his bottom lip, remaining silent for the next few blows until Francis spoke up.

"Now, pet, I want you to ask your master to stop beating you. _Beg_ him." Francis laughed a little.

Arthur let out a groan as the whip came down again. "Master…" he called. "Master, please… please stop beating me…"

"Try again!" Francis gave him several more blows before Arthur found a chance to speak.

"Master… please… stop… beating me… Master…" Arthur's back was in excruciating agony now. Damn it, weren't his pleads good enough for Francis?

Francis continued to whip him mercilessly. Arthur could tell that a few trails of hot and sticky blood were starting to run down his back, making him feel quite a bit more uncomfortable. "Now, Arthur, beg whenever you want to," Francis said. "Whenever you feel like you can't take it anymore, give in. Give in and plead, scream for me to stop. When you say it right, I will no longer continue your punishment."

Arthur let out a low moan as Francis gave him several more lashings before he let out a strangled cry that eventually transformed into a scream. Arthur felt like a git for not being able to control his voice and how much pain he was expressing, but he could not help it. He felt like his knees were about to buckle at any second. Eventually, they did give way, the shackles supporting Arthur's body as he slumped down a little. "M-Master…" he uttered, arching his back slightly as the whip made an incredibly painful lash across his middle back. "S-stop… I beg of you, Master… Just stop! _Stop!_"

"Not quite," Francis decided, taking a small break that only lasted a few seconds before starting to whip his victim again. "You're almost there, Arthur. Just say it right."

"Master…" Arthur's voice was hoarse. He could hardly speak anymore, and his body had sunk down as far as it could go. "Stop… Master, please… I can't… I can't…" Arthur found himself unable to finish his sentence, his eyelids feeling heavy as blood streamed from the gashes on his back. "I can't…"

Francis paused, observing Arthur. "I hope that's not the best that you can do. I find it pitiful that you can't even finish what you were saying. Why don't you do that, mon cher?" He struck Arthur again.

Arthur couldn't scream. He couldn't speak. The blood loss was making him dizzy, and he wanted to either fall unconscious or die. "Master," he whispered painfully. "Please… end me now. I can't take it. I can't."

"End you?" Francis chuckled, holding the bloody leather whip in his hands while he spoke. "No, I don't think I'll do that. I want you alive, pet." Much to Arthur's relief, Francis didn't start beating him again—instead, he approached him and trailed a finger down the bloody gashes, and Arthur let out a small and sharp exclamation of pain. "I do believe that was 207 lashes, mon cher," he murmured quietly in Arthur's ear. "You probably could have taken twice that before you collapsed dead on the ground. And you know what? For right now, I'm going to be nice to you. I'll stop beating you for now, even though you didn't say it properly, and see if the tone of your voice improves when you address me. Do you understand? Can you speak?"

Arthur moaned softly, not giving any other reply to the vampire. His vision was starting to blur.

Francis reached up and undid the shackles, letting Arthur fall to the ground in a heap. The blood had stained his pants and was dripping down to his shoes, so he had definitely lost a lot of it when Francis decided to show pity and stop. Arthur didn't object when Francis picked him up and held him in his arms, carrying him up the stairs. For the next few moments, or it could have been hours, Arthur wasn't sure what was happening. He heard Elizabeta's voice, Gilbert's voice, he felt the warm caress of gauze bandages being wrapped around his wounds after the stinging antibiotics were applied, and the next thing he knew, he was being held in Francis's arms, his head resting up against the other's chest as he couldn't support it himself. He was sure that they were sitting on the edge of the bed while the other two vampires stood in front of them.

The fuzzy blur that was Gilbert leaned forwards and prodded Arthur's cheek with his finger. "Francis, dude, his eyes are open but he's not responding. It's like, really creepy."

Arthur only stared dully out into space as Francis nestled his chin in his short, sandy blond hair. "Mm, yes, he's still conscious but very weak and vulnerable right now. My guess is that he's going to snap out of it in an hour or so or he'll fall asleep. Either way, he'll be better soon. He was quite a strong fellow, you know. 207 lashes before he gave up… many people don't last that long."

Antonio chuckled. "Good thing you got a tough one, Francis."

Arthur sighed gently. He wanted to talk to Elizabeta again. He wanted to know if she was playing the piano piece while he was in the basement. "Eliza…" he mumbled, pressing his head closer to Francis's chest. It was very warm. "Someone… where is Eliza? I want to… talk…"

Gilbert glanced down at Arthur, watching him curiously. "Elizabeta's in the bedroom, but to be frank, kid, you're in no condition to talk to anyone. You should sleep if you want to get better."

"Then… then ask her…" Arthur's eyelids began to close and his words became more and more slurred. "As' her if she play' th' song… She knows wha' I'm talking about… I jus' wanna know if she played the song while I was in the basement."

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah, sure, British guy. I'll ask her that."

Francis ran his fingers through Arthur's hair as the British man closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "You two should really get going," the blond vampire murmured. "I want my alone time with mon lapin here. Maybe you could spend more time with your human pets as well. It's still quite a long time until we go out hunting, so you've got time to kill."

Arthur started to nod off in Francis's arms, welcoming the embrace gratefully. He felt safer in that position, held by someone strong and fearless, even if that strong and fearless person did just beat the shit out of him more than two hundred times in under two hours. Arthur was even beginning to find it calming when Francis whispered terms of endearment in his ears, his lips and sharp canine teeth brushing up against the tender skin on his ear.

However, as Arthur lay half-asleep in Francis's arms, he was sure that the last thing he heard before he fell into a deep sleep was Elizabeta, calling out his name from the hallway, sounding almost desperate doing so.

"Arthur. Arthur, I'm sorry. I didn't play the song."

10


	3. Quick Cleaning & Rest and New Romance

**Hi! It's G :)  
>Sorry, this chapter is shorter than the others and... it's not as well-written. I think that I should say, though, that I haven't been working very hard on this XD Only adding bits and pieces of it when I had time in school... and I kept on loosing the motivation to type it up on my laptop. Stupid HetaOni is so distracting... \(oдo)**

**Anyways, this is chapter three, sorry for a bit of a cliffhanger down there.**

**Oh, and I won't be putting translations to the German and French (Later Italian and Spanish as well). You can use Google or Bing translators to find out what they're saying. **

* * *

><p>Arthur awoke to find himself still wrapped in Francis's strong arms, the vampire playing absentmindedly with his hair, twirling it around in his fingers without putting much thought into it. Arthur tilted his head up to get a better view of the vampire's face. "Master," he greeted softly. "How long was I asleep?"<p>

Francis smiled and lifted his hand from the human's hair, letting it graze gently over his cheek. "I would say, only about three hours," he murmured, his lips sweeping over Arthur's forehead, planting a few kisses along the way. Arthur cringed a little, but didn't object at all. He had taken enough punishment already. "You're covered with blood, you know. I didn't want to wash it off while you were unconscious, so if you feel like moving, we can go to the shower and get cleaned up… I got a little blood on myself as well."

Arthur stiffened up, wincing as a sudden pain in his back stung him upon doing so. "A shower… together, Master?" he inquired. "I-I'm sorry, I don't feel like I'm comfortable doing that, Master. Can I not just take a shower by myself?"

"_Non._ You will listen to what I say and do as you're told." Francis brushed Arthur's bangs from his eyes. "Remember, pet? I decide what you do, what you wear, what you eat, where you sleep... Be a good pet and stand up now, Arthur."

Arthur did stand up, but he collapsed on the ground the instant he was free of Francis's arms. He let out a pitiful whimper as he struggled to stand again, only to fail and tumble to his knees again. "Damn it…" he cursed under his breath, trying once again to stand. His knees gave way, and for the third time he collapsed. "Fuck!" Arthur spat, giving up and rolling over on his side, panting heavily. "I can't stand!"

Francis chuckled and stood up (successfully) and placed his hands under Arthur's arms, hoisting him to his feet and holding him. "It's okay, _mon lapin_. You took quite a beating earlier. I'm not surprised if you need my help to stand on your feet without falling down."

Arthur flushed as Francis held him close to his body. His hands were very cold… "M-Master…"

The vampire started to lead Arthur out of the room, murmuring things in his ear. "You'll be fine, Arthur. I'm going to help you into the bathroom, okay? The shower is big enough for both of us to be in comfortably. And once we get out, you can have something to eat, okay? It's a little past noon… which is around the time that you would eat lunch, correct? I'll ask Elizabeta to fix you a little something to eat."

Nodding, Arthur let Francis take him down to the large bathroom, leaning against him all the way. He couldn't even support his own weight, let alone walk without help. Thankfully, on the way down the hall, they didn't pass by Elizabeta, which would have humiliated Arthur to no end.

Francis opened the shower door and turned on the water, letting it run over his fingers for a moment before glancing back to Arthur, who was still leaning up against his body. "_Mon cher_, while the water is warming up, why don't we go ahead and take off our clothes?" Arthur flushed in embarrassment and surprise at Francis's suggestion. Of course, since they were going to shower, they would have to be nude, but for some reason Arthur wasn't expecting that. Francis smiled at Arthur's blush. "I'll help you take yours off if you need it," he said slyly, making Arthur's blush deepen. However, the young man shook his head a little and cautiously took a step away from Francis, thankful that his legs weren't giving out, despite how weak they felt. He then started to slide off his pants, fully aware that Francis was watching his every move. He hesitated to remove his boxers, though. He had never been fully nude in front of another man, let alone anyone but his parents, and that was when he was just a child. Nonetheless, he removed them quickly, but kept his back facing Francis as he heard the vampire stripping his own clothes away. While waiting, Arthur glanced over to the mirror across from him. To his disgust, his back was covered with horrid welts and gashes that were stained with dried blood. With care, Arthur reached around his body and traced his finger down one of the many injuries; only to draw it back sharply while a hiss of pain escaped his lips. It felt like burning hell when he touched one of those things.

As Arthur examined his back in the mirror, Francis, in all his naked glory, came up from behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, but his palm grazed a few of the cuts and Arthur let out a small whimper of pain. Francis gave him a curious look in response. "Do they hurt, pet?" Arthur nodded, and to his horror, Francis smirked. With his ice-cold hand, the vampire began to rub Arthur's back, forcing a sharp cry of pain from the human. Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that the tears forming in his eyes would disappear. Francis chuckled and stopped touching his pet's back after a few more strokes, and instead started to pull him to the shower. "You react quickly to the pain," he said, amused. "I don't think you'll like it if we take too long washing off the blood. So let's hurry and get this over with."

Arthur nodded weakly and pulled himself into the shower, leaning up against the moistened, tiled wall with his eyes closed. He was still quite tired. Francis followed behind, closing the claret shower curtains behind him and wrapping his arms around Arthur's waist. "Come now… you can't fall asleep here, _mon cher_." He pulled Arthur into the spray of the water and picked up a sponge from a built-in shelf on the shower wall. He then proceeded to dampen it with water, still holding Arthur's middle section with one hand. "Brace yourself."

Francis began to steadily scrub the blood off of Arthur's back, starting with the middle of it, and making Arthur moan in pain. The human clasped his hands together, his fingernails digging into his own skin and even drawing some blood as he attempted to cope with the stinging pain that accompanied the cleaning of his back. As much as it hurt him, though, Arthur could tell that Francis was being gentle with him.

"That looks pretty much clean," Francis murmured after a moment. "Wash off those hands of yours, pet. I can see that they're bloody." Arthur nodded slightly and released his hands from each other, rinsing the specks of blood away from the small injuries. "Now turn around and face me." Arthur did so, being careful to make eye contact with his master and not let his gaze drift down to the lower section of his body. "You've got some blood on your lips," he said simply.

Arthur blinked. His lips weren't chapped… as he reached up a tense hand to feel his lips, Francis suddenly leaned forward and planted a firm kiss on his lips. Arthur's eyes widened with surprise at the sudden, unfamiliar contact, and he flinched as he felt the other's sharp fangs bite into his bottom lip. A trickle of blood ran down his chin. After a few moments longer, Francis pulled back with a wide smirk on his face. "I'll wash that off for you, _mon cher._" With that, Francis started to draw his tongue over Arthur's bloodied lips, lapping up the blood around his mouth and chin. Arthur could only stare with his eyes wide open in shocked silence.

The next few minutes were carried out in silence. Francis helped Arthur out of the shower, wrapping him up in a soft white towel getting a towel for himself. Arthur wrapped the towel around his waist and was ushered out the door, and he and Francis went straight to the bedroom. As soon as they were safely inside with the door shut, Francis let his towel drop to the floor, exposing his nude body and making Arthur blush and turn away. Noticing this, Francis chuckled a little and said, "There's nothing wrong with looking at my body, pet. You'll probably be seeing a lot more of it later, maybe in a couple of nights." Arthur chose to ignore that last comment, covering his eyes with one of his hands. That vampire had no modesty…

As soon as Francis was clothed, he picked out a simple black suit for Arthur to wear, much like the one that the gentleman had worn on the day of his first encounter with the vampire. Arthur accepted it gratefully, making sure that Francis wasn't watching him when he removed the towel from his waist and started to change into the clothes.

Arthur quickly excused himself from the bedroom as soon as he could, relieved that Francis made no objection. He hurried down the stairs to the kitchen, finding Elizabeta and Gilbert there. Eliza was standing at the stove and making an egg-based dish in a frying pan, while Gilbert was standing behind her and monitoring her progress. "Eliza, pet, put in more salt. It tastes better with salt."

Elizabeta sighed and turned to her vampire master. "Gil, if I put in too much salt, the other humans are going to get sick. I know how much you love the stuff, but save it for when you're eating potatoes. No one else eats those." She glanced up randomly, and her mouth formed an "O" at the sight of Arthur standing in the doorway. "Arthur! Arthur, you're here!" With haste, she abandoned the stove to hurry over to her human friend. "How are you? Are you in pain? Oh, here, I'm making scrambled eggs, so if you're hungry, you can have some of that… it's a late lunch, though, and Lovino will be coming down to join us at any second now…"

Arthur blinked. "I-I'm fine," he lied. In truth, it still hurt him to walk and move in pretty much any way at all. "And thank you… I actually just came down to get something to eat."

"Eliza, it's going to get burned!" Gilbert called. "Get over here!"

"Cook it yourself," Elizabeta snapped.

"I don't know how to cook!" Gilbert wailed. "Hurry up!"

Elizabeta let out an exasperated sigh. "Sorry," she apologized to Arthur before turning away to the stove. "The scrambled eggs will be ready in a few minutes. Why don't you go to the dining room and have a seat at the table, Arthur?" Arthur nodded and headed to the dining room, pulling out a chair and sitting down. Just then, Lovino entered, pushing his chestnut colored bangs from his eyes and yawning.

"Hey, British bastard," Lovino greeted as he took a seat across from Arthur. Arthur assumed that this was the way that the Italian boy greeted everyone, so he chose to ignore the insult. "You know, you sure can scream fucking loud. I could hear it from my bedroom, damn it. What the fuck was Francis doing, ripping out your brains?"

Arthur flushed. He hadn't expected the others to hear him scream. "Actually," he began quietly. "He was beating me with the Cat o' Nine Tails… that whip with nine branches. It was excruciating…"

Lovino winced as if struck in the face. "Yeah, Antonio whipped me with that… once," he said, just as softly. "I accidentally broke one of his valuable glass vases and he was fucking pissed. So he took me down there and whipped me about ten times before I was begging for mercy. How many times did Francis hit you?"

"207," Arthur murmured, not meeting the other's eyes. "I'm going to be scarred for the rest of my life."

"The eggs are done!" Elizabeta hurried into the dining room, followed by Gilbert. She set the pan down on the table and passed out plates to everyone, and they helped themselves to the dish. Elizabeta took a seat next to Arthur, and made him blush a little when she scooted her chair closer to his. Gilbert sat next to Lovino, who muttered a few swear words under his breath. Just as Arthur picked up his fork, he realized something.

"Gilbert, sir… I thought that vampires only drank human blood for food?"

Gilbert looked at him with wide crimson eyes. "Well, yeah, but we can eat human food too if we wanna. I only eat this stuff 'cause it tastes good. Francis only has human blood, but he'll drink wine from time to time." He shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth and swallowed it with a loud gulp. Arthur began to eat as well, his mouth watering as he lifted the sustenance to his lips.

Once finished, Elizabeta and Arthur stood up at the same time glancing at each other as they did so. Elizabeta smiled and reached out, taking Arthur's arm in her hand. "Come out to the living room," she invited. "I'm going to try and play a song on the piano again and I want you to listen to me." Arthur nodded and followed Elizabeta out, ignoring the curious stares of Gilbert and Lovino. Elizabeta brought Arthur onto the piano bench with her, then placed her hands on the keys before glancing up worriedly at the man beside her. "Do you know any good songs?" she questioned shyly. "Before I make something up for Roderich, I should at least learn a real song first."

"Anything played on a musical instrument is a real song," Arthur corrected gently. "But I took piano lessons when I was a student. I can show you a good song for someone who's just beginning at this." Reaching around the young woman, Arthur set his own fingers on the keys to play a short, simple song while singing along with the lyrics.

_Twinkle, twinkle, little star… how I wonder what you are._

_ Up above the world so high… like a diamond in the sky…_

_ Twinkle, twinkle, little star… how I wonder what you are._

Arthur held the last note longer than the others before gracefully lifting his hands from the piano with a small smile forming on his face. "That sounds simple enough, right, Ms. Eliza?"

"You have a lovely voice when you sing, Mr. Gentleman," Elizabeta commented quietly.

Arthur blushed. "Ah, so…" _Disregard that comment_… "The first note here is a G…" He lifted Elizabeta's hand and placed it over the key. "Play it with your thumb. That way, you won't need to be constantly changing your finger position when going up the scale."

Elizabeta picked up on the notes quickly, soon able to play them without Arthur's help. After a few more rounds of playing the song, Arthur began an accompaniment while singing along. Soon, Elizabeta was singing too, and once the two felt like they were finished practicing for the day, they simply stopped and looked each other in the eyes. It was rather awkward for Arthur, since he had never been this close to a girl, nor had he felt this way, with his heart pounding in his chest hard enough so that he feared it might burst. "Thank you," Elizabeta said with a small laugh. "I'll practice this song every day now." She started to lean in closer to Arthur. "I really like you," she whispered, just before touching her lips lightly to his.

Arthur was shocked, partly because he had never shared a kiss with a girl, and partly because Elizabeta was still a married woman. That meant that she was cheating on her husband, right? Nonetheless, it felt so much more pleasurable and satisfying than Francis's bloody and rough kiss that they shared in the shower. Closing his eyes, Arthur wrapped his hands around Elizabeta's waist, only to pull away and open his eyes in horror.

"_Je ne me souviens pas de vous donner la permission d'aimer Elizabeta_. Ah well, I suppose I'll have to discipline you again, Arthur."

Francis was standing next to the grandfather clock with an eerie smirk on his face, seeming to enjoy every moment of this. "Elizabeta, _mon cher_, I don't have the authority to punish you without the consent of your master, but I'm sure that he'll agree to allow me once he hears of this." His smirk grew. "Arthur, I'll either punish you alongside Elizabeta or give you a… special punishment later tonight. Now, both of you follow me. We're going to inform Gilbert of this situation."

Arthur exchanged a nervous glance with Elizabeta as they reluctantly followed the blond vampire out of the room, entering the dining hall where Gilbert was playing with a small yellow chick that was fluttering around his head and chirping cheerfully. When the albino saw the others entering, he snapped his fingers and said, "To me, Gilbird." The chick flew over and nestled itself in the albino vampire's fluffy white hair. "Hey, what's up? Kesesese… Eliza, you're blushing a lot. If Antonio was here, he would probably say that you look like a tomato!"

"Gilbert," Francis growled, grabbing Arthur's and Elizabeta's shoulders and dragging them out in front of him. "Our two pets were out by the piano, kissing each other." Elizabeta's blush deepened and she looked away while Arthur simply didn't make eye contact with Gilbert. "May I have your permission to punish Elizabeta as I see fit?"

Gilbert stroked his chin thoughtfully. He started to walk over to the others, examining Elizabeta with mock curiosity. "Hm, I don't know… I'd have to put some real thought into that one, Francis…" Elizabeta's lip curled up in frustration, the only warning she gave before she threw a powerful uppercut into her master's stomach. Gilbert stumbled back a few paces from surprise, but he didn't seem to be hurt at all. Swiftly, Francis clasped his hand around the back of Elizabeta's neck and slammed her body into the ground face first, temporarily forgetting about Arthur. As he knelt beside the struggling girl, he glanced up at Gilbert, his eyes flashing.

"Permission to punish this impudent and foolish girl?" Francis snarled to the other vampire, tightening his grip on the back of Elizabeta's neck and earning a small cry from the girl.

"Granted," Gilbert said lazily, scratching the back of his head while his little yellow bird chirped at him.

"HEY!" Arthur exclaimed, unable to contain his fury any longer. He couldn't just sit by in silence while Elizabeta was hurt. He stalked up to the blond vampire, who was looking up at him from his kneeling position on the ground with cold eyes. "How dare you treat a lady like that, Francis! That's uncivil!"

Francis's eyes turned into chips of ice at Arthur's words. "What did you just call me, pet?" he snarled, forcibly yanking Elizabeta to her feet and shoving her into Gilbert. "Hold her for me, Gilbert," he muttered, approaching Arthur and grabbing his shirt collar, furious blue eyes meeting calm green. "You dare speak to me in that manner?"

Something inside Arthur told him to run. He could have done so, panicking and yelling at Francis to let him to in fear for his own safety with the knowledge that any wrong move would bring him an even more brutal punishment. In contrast, though, the other part of Arthur didn't want to listen to Francis anymore. It didn't matter to him that he was going to be hurt for disobeying. He was done playing as a pet to this monster. A chilling smirk crept over the British man's mouth and he cocked his head to the side in a mocking, teasing manner. "I called you Francis, _sir_," he replied sardonically. "And I don't like the way that you're treating Ms. Elizabeta. It's uncivil for a man to do anything like that to a woman."

A low growl rumbled in the back of Francis's throat, making him sound almost like an angry dog rather than a humanoid corpse. "Do you really want to go that far with me, pet?"

"I'm no longer your pet!" Arthur retorted triumphantly, brining his hand up to the vampire's face and slapping him across the cheek with the palm of his hand. Francis's head turned from the mild impact, but when he returned his gaze to the human, his eyes were on fire.

"You're a fool," Francis snarled, lunging forwards and slamming Arthur up against the nearest wall, his hand still gripping his shirt collar. Arthur uttered a small exclamation of pain as his head was bashed into the hard wall, his emerald green eyes alight with panic as Francis's hands groped around until they found a firm hold on his throat and squeezed. "Arthur, you are my pet," he hissed in his ear as the human desperately struggled for a breath of air. "I am your master. You will obey me and if you disobey my orders, then you will be punished as I see fit. Is that understood?"

Arthur's eyes started to close. He could no longer breath at all as Francis's grip tightened around his neck."Francis…" he managed to say weakly.

Francis didn't release him. "What did you call me, _pet?_"

Arthur was going to die. "M-Master…"

The instant that Francis released him, Arthur brought in a huge gasp of air, letting himself sink to his knees while clutching his neck and the burning red marks that Francis's fingers had left on his skin. He glowered up at Francis, who returned the stare with a confident smirk. "To threaten you with an inch of your precious little mortal life seems like a good way to break you," he purred, kneeling beside Arthur and lifting his chin up roughly with three ice-cold fingers. Arthur's shortage of breath rendered him unable to reply, but he held a defiant gleam in his emerald eyes. "Wouldn't you agree, _mon petit lapin?_" Arthur allowed his eyes to close. He was too tired to make any kind of response to the vampire.

"Arthur!" Elizabeta cried from behind Francis. Arthur didn't open his eyes at the sound of her voice, but he could hear the young woman struggling against her master to become free and rush over to the other human's side. "Arthur," she moaned. "Don't die, Arthur!" The last word was broken with a sob. Was she crying? Arthur's eyes fluttered open for an instant, but seeing only Francis's eyes staring at him, he relaxed his eyelids again. If he couldn't see Elizabeta, then there wasn't much of a point in seeing at all.

"Stand up, pet," Francis ordered, rising to his feet. "It's time for your punishment. I need to show you what happens when you're foolish enough to think that you can get away with falling in love with another vampire's human."

Arthur took a deep breath, making sure that his breathing had been steadied before climbing to his feet. As he leaned up against the wall, his eyes still closed and a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead, he wondered why he had chosen to submit to Francis and call him "Master" instead of simply letting himself die. It would have been so much easier for him to be free of the torture and pain, right?

He just didn't want to die yet.

Arthur had left behind his home, his property, all of his possessions and even his treasured little cat when he had become a pet of Francis. If there was ever a chance that he would be free and return to his house, then he wanted to remain alive for that, at least.

"Elizabeta!" Francis barked. "I'm taking you two down to the basement now. Gilbert, would you be so kind as to take her there for me? Arthur looks tired, so I might have to carry him." Arthur moaned a little in protest as Francis wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted him from the ground, carrying him bridal-style down the stairs. "Now," Francis announced, setting Arthur on the ground and leaning his body up against the cold basement wall gently. "Gilbert, do you remember the design that we discussed earlier? Are you still content with the Yin-Yang symbol?"

Gilbert nodded with a playful grin. "_Ja_, I love that symbol 'cause it's like my brother and me. We're complete opposites but we go so well together… Ah, but that was over four hundred years ago before you turned me into a vampire. Ludwig's dead now, I would assume. So _ja_, use the Yin-Yang."

Arthur, who was observing the two conversing vampires with half-closed emerald eyes, silently wondered what brought up the subject of symbols and designs, but his confusion was cleared with Francis's next chilling words.

"A Yin-Yang symbol would carve away quite a bit of skin when I use it. A rose, on the other hand, is made up of smaller cuts and might not hurt as much, plus the fact that there is less of a chance of infection. Are you sure that you want a Yin-Yang carved into Elizabeta?" Arthur heard a small gasp of surprise from the young woman being held in place by Gilbert, but Gilbert just nodded in response to Francis's question with a small laugh.

"_Ja, ja_, she's a toughie. She can take it."

So Francis is going to carve symbols into our flesh… Arthur thought with a weak shiver. "Francis," the young man breathed softly, his voice just loud enough to catch the French vampire's attention. Francis's head turned, watching Arthur's face inquisitively as he waited for him to continue. Arthur expected him to correct him, scolding him again about not calling him by his first name, but instead he just stared and waited for him to continue. "Can… can you give me Elizabeta's punishment?"

"Arthur!" Elizabeta exclaimed, shocked.

Francis let out a small chuckle. "That's very considerate of you, _mon petit lapin_," he said with a smile. Arthur blinked. Would Francis let him take the punishment for Elizabeta? "…But I can't grant your wish. See, she'll be scarred with Gilbert's mark when I carve it into her, which shows that she belongs to him. I don't see much point in marking you with that because you'll already have a rose to show that you are mine. Also, this is to teach you both a lesson, not just one of you."

Arthur gritted his teeth together. Damn it… "I don't care," he growled, narrowing his eyes. "Please, Fra- I mean, Master, I'll take any other kind of punishment in the place of Ms. Eliza."

"No can do," Francis replied with a smirk. "Gilbert, strap Elizabeta down to that wooden table over there, _s'il vous plait_. I'm going to take care of her first."

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, yeah... more torture will come up later as you can probably tell. Do you think I should add Ludwig in? Alfred's going to show up, for sure, along with Iggy-neko! 3<strong>

**Gilbert likes salt (Like Kiku). I figure that since he likes pandas and maple syrup with pancakes, (Hong Kong/China and Canada) he may as well like salt. ^J^**

**Reviews are much loved and I read every single one of them no matter what! Thanks~~ **


	4. Iggy and Alfred

**Hey, it's G. **  
><strong>Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews! I've been keeping track of how many I get and how many favourites I get... because I just have nothing better to be doing in my spare time. :P Other than typing this. Which I should be doing instead...<strong>

**orz**  
><strong>I promise that I won't leave off in such crappy places from now on. I'll try and get in at least ten pages for each chapter... but maybe give or take a few due to places where I leave off on. <strong>

**Anyways, I'm glad that a lot of people like this story! Enjoy! Reviews/comments/favourites are love~~!**  
><strong>(Ludwig + Feliciano coming... soon...)<strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>No!<em>" Arthur exclaimed, his voice cracking. "Don't hurt her! She didn't do anything wrong, Francis! It was all my fault that we kissed, I swear it! It was all my fault!"

Francis glared at Arthur as Elizabeta was shoved roughly down onto the wooden table with leather restraints attached to it. "Pet, you know just as well as I do that Elizabeta was the one who kissed you. If she hadn't kissed you, then none of this would be happening. If you try and protest _stupidly_ like that again, you'll both receive an even greater punishment. Understood?"

Arthur glowered for a moment longer before lowering his gaze. "Y-yes, Master."

"Good." Francis turned back to Elizabeta, who was glaring up at him from where she was strapped down to the table. Her wrists and ankles were bound by thick leather strips that Gilbert had tightly secured, and she wasn't protesting at all aside from the death stare that she transfixed on Francis that seemed to read, "I'll take whatever you give me." Francis seemed to accept this challenge, swiftly striding over to the cabinet where he stored his weapons, including the Cat o' Nine Tails, and choosing a small but incredibly sharp-looking knife from a space in the wooden door. "Elizabeta, _mon cher_, I hope you understand what I'm going to do to you. Upon Gilbert's request, you're going to be marked with his symbol. This is going to hurt but I assure you, it's for your own good. We can't have you going off and doing things with other men, can we?" He approached Elizabeta, smirking down at her while holding the knife up to his lips. His tongue slid out of his mouth, giving it a tantalizing lick. "I hope you're prepared, my dear."

Arthur bit his lip as he observed in silence. He was a little vexed that Francis could easily talk to Elizabeta like he was her master instead of his. Wait… Arthur wanted to slap himself. Was he jealous? Jealous of the girl he loved because the bastard that he hated more than anyone else was so easily talking to her without any hesitation or qualms? No, that couldn't be it. It must be something else. It must be.

Elizabeta let out a small sound as Francis suddenly and roughly grabbed the collar of her white and green dress, pulling it down her chest until it exposed the top half of her right breast. Elizabeta stared at Francis in disgust, probably thinking that he was a pervert and was going to do something to her. Instead, Francis held the silver knife blade over her exposed skin, making a few circles around it in the air before making a meticulous, curved line in her flesh. Arthur winced as Elizabeta's face contorted in agony as she attempted to hold back a cry of pain. She really was tough, trying to be tough when faced with this situation. But as Francis continued to cut into her, eventually digging the knife under her flesh and carving away a rather thick slice of bloodied skin, she gave in and uttered a few small exclamations of pain as tears welled up in her eyes that were squeezed shut. Arthur looked away from her, not wanting to watch her being tortured like this. He did look back as Francis started talking to Gilbert, telling him to take Elizabeta off the table and some reminders: "Make sure that the symbol doesn't heal all the way and becomes a scar. Also, if it gets infected, treat that right away. Oh… and make sure that she doesn't get mixed up with my pet ever again." His tone darkened. "I'm okay with her and Arthur talking to each other and being near each other, but if they decide to kiss again, I don't care who started it, they're both being punished severely. Be prepared for Elizabeta not being able to walk for a few days at least if that happens, alright, Gilbert?" Gilbert nodded and started to remove the straps from Elizabeta's wrists and ankles, and as Arthur started to wander over to the table knowing that he would be asked to come over there anyways, he saw blood staining her chest and some of the skin cut away to form a Yin-Yang symbol. He shivered as Elizabeta was led away, still crying a little.

"Ready, _mon amour?_" Francis smirked. "Lie down on the table, _s'il vous plait_. For you, I'll give you a simple rose to mark who your master is. The rose is a very beautiful flower… and I believe it's also the national flower of the United Kingdom, _oui?_ What do you think of the rose, Arthur?"

Arthur hands clenched into tight fists as Francis started to strap him down to the wooden surface. "I… I like roses, Master," he admitted, his eyes following the silver knife's every move. He winced as Francis started to pull away his black coat, then his white shirt beneath that, holding the knife above his chest in the same place that he had for Elizabeta. The cold metal was pressed up against his skin, sending a chill down his spine. "I don't suppose that I can get out of this punishment, Master?"

"_Non_." Francis studied Arthur's skin for a moment before sliding the tip under the peach colored flesh. Arthur uttered a hiss of pain, closing his eyes as Francis continued to cut into him, carving out the rose pattern. It wasn't as bad as Arthur had anticipated, but by the time that Francis was finished, there were tears in the corners of Arthur's eyes. "Arthur," Francis murmured, lifting the knife from the young man's chest and wiping the blood away from its sharp metal with his finger. "I'm done. After we get it cleaned up, you can see how gorgeous it looks. And the best part is, you're going to have that mark forever and ever. You can't get rid of it."

Arthur raised his head and glanced down at his chest. He couldn't see much of a rose symbol, only the blood that was slowly oozing out of the thin incisions in his chest. Francis unstrapped him from the table and without waiting for his consent, lifted him from the table and held him in bridal-style again, pressing him up against his chest. Arthur blinked and looked up at the vampire, who had begun to carry him up the stairs. Francis returned the gaze, and said, "We've got to get that wound cleaned up, _oui?_"

* * *

><p>Arthur sat in silence as Francis patched up the wound with a few strips of cloth, taping them down carefully. After cleaning up the blood, it was clear that a neat little rose had been marked on his skin, but it would take a few days at the least to heal. Arthur watched Francis in the bathroom mirror warily as the vampire reached up and began to run his fingers through the human's sandy blond hair. Arthur didn't relax his tense shoulders, but he did allow Francis to do this. There wasn't any harm done. "Come to think of it…" Arthur began to think out loud, catching Francis's attention. "Why do you show a reflection, Master? I thought that vampires didn't have reflections in mirrors."<p>

Francis chuckled and leaned in closer to Arthur's face, his lips softly grazing his cheek. "Mirrors can show vampires only because they reflect anything placed in front of it." Francis's tongue flickered out of his mouth for a moment and quickly contacted with Arthur's skin. "It's not like we're invisible, _mon lapin_. You can see me clearly, can't you?" Arthur bit his lip as Francis's hand snaked around his hips. "There's still much that you need to learn about vampires. Maybe you should pay a visit to the library, _oui?_ There should be plenty of books with true facts about vampires."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, Master, I'll do that." He pushed away from Francis and opened up the bathroom door, heading out quickly. The vampire was starting to act a little oddly, kissing his cheek like that. He wasn't comfortable with that kind of contact yet. _Not yet_. He turned to the library where he had only visited once before, closing the door behind him. The shelves were piled high with books, some set on top of the shelves or on the floor next to them. In the center of the magnificent room sat three deep crimson colored leather chairs, all circling a low cedar table.

Arthur's eyes skimmed over the books. They all seemed to be old, leather-bound ones with old and crumbling, yellowed paper. None of them had titles written on their spines. What he was hoping to find was a book on how to slay vampires, but if he couldn't read their titles at first glance… _Then I guess I'll just have to go looking through each individual one, huh?_ Arthur sighed and scratched the back of his neck. He headed for the end of the closest shelf, taking out three books and starting to flip through them. The first book, a paperback that looked rather modern in comparison to the others, was a cookbook. That one went back on the shelf. The second book was one of the older ones, and didn't have any title on it anywhere. He opened it up and checked the inside cover of it. In large bold letters read the words, _Advanced Magic Curses, Spells, and Hexes For Humans_. Arthur blinked. That was certainly tempting to read… Oh, well. If he wanted a book on vampires, this one would have to wait. He set it on the thinly carpeted floor beside the end of the shelf and took a look at the third book in his hands. In sloppy handwriting that seemed to be carelessly slapped across the yellowed paper cover with an ink pen was some title that was unreadable, but Arthur began to leaf through the pages anyways. To his surprise, it appeared to be a diary. "Francis's Journal. Date: May Seventh, 1562," Arthur mumbled to himself, his jade eyes passing over the messy black writing quickly. _So this journal belongs to Francis_, the young man thought before continuing his reading. _This is from hundreds of years ago…_

"I believe that I am in love. Today as I was in the park, I found the loveliest young lady sitting at the pond and feeding the ducks some bread from a bag that she had brought. I believe that she had brought it just for the little birds. She is most kind. She was also wore a yellow dress with white frills. Her hair was the colour of sunshine. When I go to speak to her, she smiles at me and it fills me with the most amazing sensation. I know at once that we are meant to be together."

Arthur finished the last word on the page with a smile spreading across his own face. Francis hadn't always been such a monster if he talked about a girl this way. At one point, he was just another normal man in love. He turned the page.

"Date: May Twelfth, 1562. Ms. Jeanne kisses me on the cheek. She is so kind to me and I love her very much. I hope that we can get married." Arthur flipped the page over. "Date: June 10, 1562. Ms. Jeanne and I share love. We both want to get married very soon and our parents agree." Arthur smiled. Had Francis been married before he was turned into a vampire? "Date: August 23, 1562. It has been decided that Ms. Jeanne and I will get married in two months. I am ever so excited for the date. November 30 is when we will get married." Arthur skipped a few pages before picking up reading again. "Date: December 20, 1562. Jeanne is dead."

The diary slipped from Arthur's hands and dropped to the floor with a dull _thump_. She was dead? Francis's true love had died just ten days before the day that they were to be wed? How cruel. Arthur picked up the diary again, wondering if Francis had any more details to his tale. "Date: January 3, 1563." Arthur kept his voice at a low whisper. "The authorities have investigated Ms. Jeanne's murder. There is evidence that she was killed by her brother, but they cannot say for sure. There are still two other culprits. I pray that the true one will be found out soon. God bless Ms. Jeanne's spirit. Rest In Peace, my love."

Arthur almost felt like crying. Francis must have been deeply in love with this woman, and she was murdered just before their wedding. This was just horrible. "Date: January 20. 1563. The killer of Ms. Jeanne could not be determined. My family is moving back to France. I am staying, though. I must know who was cold-blooded enough to kill such a divine and magnificent woman such as Ms. Jeanne. For as long as Ms. Jeanne's slayer was still alive, I will not leave the town of London." What a determined man, Arthur thought as he turned the page. "Date: February 1, 1563. I know that Ms. Jeanne's brother killed her. I don't need any evidence aside from the fact that I spotted him in his room one night, drunk and cackling like a mad man about the murder of his sister. I'll take care of him soon. He will pay."

The young man shivered. This must have been where Francis had turned cruel and sadistic. He flipped through the pages until he saw some words that caught his eye. "Date: April 15, 1564. I encountered a man today. He had fangs and he bit me. I was killed. But I'm not dead. My skin is pale and I don't need to breathe, even though I can make the breath escape my lips. It is the most oddest of things." And this is when he kills Jeanne's brother, Arthur predicted, scanning the next page and mumbling the words out loud as he had been doing. "Date: April 16, 1564. I killed the man. Since I am a vampire now, I simply bit him on the neck when he was drunk one night…"

"…And I sucked the life out of him. His blood is still on my lips as I write this." Francis stood in the doorway of the library room, his eyes closed and his arms crossed in front of his chest. Arthur uttered a small cry of surprise and slammed the book shut, his eyes wide with fear. He hadn't even heard the door open. "I've read that over so many times, and I've memorized every single word."

"I-I'm sorry, Master!" Arthur exclaimed, his face turning bright red with embarrassment. "I… I just saw this, and I started to read it, I'm so sorry if you didn't want me looking at it…"

A bitter smile was etched into Francis's face as he strode further into the room. From his lips escaped a heavy sigh, and to Arthur's relief, he didn't seem to be angry at all. "No, it's all right, _mon amour._ If you're going to be staying here for the rest of your pitiful human life, you have the right to know my life history. You've already read about Jeanne… and what she meant to me." He plucked the book out of Arthur's pale hands and opened it up to the first page, another sigh coming from him. "Yes, Jeanne was the most precious thing I'd ever had in my life. That's why…" he paused, closing the book with one hand, his fingers gripping the front and back covers of the diary. "…That's why I want something else. Something to be my own. Something…" He leaned in close to Arthur, his hot breath stirring the human's sandy blond hair. "Something that will provide me with the amusement and love that I desired from Jeanne. Someone like you, Arthur Kirkland." Arthur didn't reply.

"…I'm sorry," he murmured at last. "I hadn't known before that you had lost so much."

Francis chuckled softly and kissed the side of Arthur's neck softly. "Don't be sorry, _mon lapin_. It wasn't your fault that Jeanne was killed. Besides, I took care of the killer personally. Of course, the villagers tried to kill and bury me after that, but I came back out and fled to the other side of the town." His teeth grazed the human's soft flesh teasingly. "I'm actually quite happy now, since I have a magnificent little human that has to do whatever I tell him to whether he likes it or not… _oui?_" He nuzzled Arthur's hair affectionately with his nose. "I never want you to leave me, _mon petit Arthur_." The way that Francis said Arthur's name in French made him smile a little. It sounded more like he was sneezing than speaking his name. "You know that's why I have to be so strict…" Francis whispered, his voice like honey as he kissed the tip of Arthur's nose lovingly. "If I don't make sure that you understand and will follow the rules, then I fear that you might run off and leave me… I'm sorry if I have to do these things to you, like beat you and carve my symbol into your skin to mark that you belong to me, but these are for your own good. I want you to stay, Arthur. You're the only one that I have in this world." He leaned in, his lips parted slightly as they reached for Arthur's own…

_Ding dong!_ Arthur practically leapt two feet in the air as the doorbell rang out through the enormous house. "T-the door," he mumbled, clumsily backing away from Francis and hurrying to the library door, swinging it open and hurrying out, but having no intention to answer the door. Instead, he pressed his back up against the nearest wall, breathing heavily and wiping sweat from his bright red face. Damn it… Arthur lifted his hand to his mouth, staring at the floor—or rather, staring off into space while his heart pounded in his chest. What the hell was that? I've never seen that side before. Francis has never shown me that side of himself. And now it feels… different. When he leaned in to kiss me, it felt so soft and gentle. He wasn't going to hurt me, was he? No, he wasn't…

"Hello, how may I help you, sir?" That was Elizabeta's voice. Arthur realized that she had answered the door.

"Oh, yeah… well, I'm lookin' for my cousin, because I went to his house and he wasn't there, and this is the last house in town…" The voice was distinctly male, and he sounded pretty young and somehow familiar. "Well, sorry to bother you, miss, but have you seen or at least heard of the man named Arthur Kirkland? He's got blond hair, like me, green eyes, and big fuzzy caterpillars for eyebrows…"

"ALFRED!" Arthur cried, running down the stairs and to the front door, locking his cousin in a tight embrace. Alfred stumbled back, his blue eyes wide with surprise. Alfred was Arthur's cousin who lived overseas in America, but would occasionally come to England to visit. "Alfred, I'm so glad to see you," Arthur exclaimed, pulling away from the blond American and smiling brightly. It was so good to see his face again.

Alfred straightened his glasses and smiled back. "I haven't seen you this perky since we were kids," he commented. "You feeling okay, Artie? Sure you're not sick?"

Arthur laughed. "No, I'm not sick at all. I just haven't seen a familiar face for a while."

"Oh!" Alfred blinked and reached into his bag that was slung around his shoulder. "Guess who missed you back at home, Artie? He was meowing like crazy when I entered your house…" In his hands sat a little white and golden-brown kitten with folded ears and bright green eyes that glittered in the light of the setting sun. "I gave Iggy some food since you obviously weren't around. Look, he's happy to see you! Look at him, Artie! He's purring!"

Arthur stared in amazement at his kitten before taking him gently from his cousin's hands and pressing him to his chest. Iggy let out a loud purr and rubbed the side of his face on Arthur's coat, his tiny claws kneading at the cloth. Arthur laughed lightly and hugged his kitten close to his body. "Alfred, I can't thank you enough for taking care of my little Iggy," he said, looking up at Alfred. "Since I couldn't go back home, I was so worried about him being by himself, but you saved him."

"You can't go back home?" Alfred cocked his head to the side. "Why not?"

Arthur's face paled in an instant. There was no way that he could tell Alfred why he had to stay in the mansion. He wouldn't believe a tale with vampires, considering Arthur's history with strange magical things that no one else could see or hear. Alfred would just dismiss it and laugh at him for being crazy. On the other hand, if Arthur made something up to explain his situation, he wouldn't be able to tell it to Alfred. A gentleman doesn't lie. While Arthur was deciding how to respond, Elizabeta saved him, much to his relief. "So you two are cousins? I never would have guessed! It doesn't look like you have too much in common aside from your blond hair; but they aren't even the same color tones!"

Arthur laughed nervously as Iggy climbed up on his shoulder and curiously sniffed at the white bandage on his neck. He patted the kitten's head as he spoke. "Yes, but our looks aren't the only differences between us. Alfred is loud-mouthed, obnoxious, and can't read the atmosphere. As for me, on the other hand, I am a perfect young gentleman."

"Hey!" Alfred teasingly slapped Arthur on the back, too busy talking to hear the hiss of pain that escaped the smaller man's mouth. "Is that how you talk to someone who just saved your kitty-cat? Show some respect for the hero, man!"

Arthur nodded weakly and plucked Iggy from his shoulder, cradling him in his arms. "Yeah, thanks for taking care of him," he said softly. "Can I ask you a favor, though?"

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Can you…" Arthur paused and took the moment to hand Iggy over to Alfred. "Can you please continue to care for him? I won't be able to keep him here."

Elizabeta tilted her head to the side inquisitively. "Arthur, why don't you ask Francis if you can keep him here with you? He might let you, since he is your cat after all…"

Arthur patted Iggy on the head, who meowed at him from Alfred's arms. "I don't know, but this house doesn't have the proper living conditions for a little cat like him. Plus… what if one of those three…" Arthur gazed at Elizabeta, hoping that she would pick up on the message that one of the vampires could kill Iggy and suck out his blood at any given time. Thankfully, Elizabeta just gave him a curt nod and turned to Alfred.

"Yes, Arthur is right. We can't keep Iggy here, so you'll have to take him. You'll be doing Arthur a huge favor if you keep him."

Alfred tightened his grip a little on Iggy. "What… exactly is going on, Arthur?"

"_Bonjour, bonjour mon ami!_" Francis called out from the staircase as he strode down it in a pompous manner. "Welcome to our home! Would you like to come in for some tea?"

Alfred looked up at Francis, his eyes wide. "Who are you?"

Francis smiled and patted Alfred on the shoulder. "My name is Francis Bonnefoy. I heard your name is Alfred, _oui?_ You are Arthur's cousin?" Alfred nodded. "_Bon!_ A relative of my little pet! Maybe we can get to know each other better, _non?_"

Arthur looked away, a blush growing on his face as Alfred cast him a confused glance. He really wished that Francis had referred to him as a 'pet' in front of his cousin. Thankfully, Alfred didn't seem to hear Francis calling Arthur that, and replied blithely, "Get to know each other over some tea? Sounds great, and I'll stay if it's not too much trouble for you to have me."

"_Non, non!_ It's no trouble at all!" Francis said with a smile. Arthur watched the vampire warily, wondering where this cheery attitude came from. Not even fifteen minutes ago was he acting like he was heartbroken over the death of Jeanne. "Elizabeta, _mon cher,_ would you be so kind as to take monsieur Alfred into the dining hall and get some tea started for him? Arthur and I will join you in just a moment. I would like to discuss something with him."

As Alfred and Elizabeta left, Francis turned to Arthur, causing a wave of panic to wash over the human as he caught sight of the vampire's sparkling blue eyes; it was impossible not to see the heavy bloodlust gleaming back at him. "Alfred is your cousin, oui…? Francis murmured. Arthur didn't reply, unsure of whether Francis was talking to him or simply musing to himself. "Do you suppose he has the same sweet blood as yours, pet?"

Arthur's gaze snapped up, his eyes stretched so wide that a thick white rim surrounded the emerald jewels sitting in the middle of them. "You wouldn't drink from Alfred. You wouldn't."

Francis licked his lips and grinned tantalizingly. "Depends on what he tastes like, love."

"_Bastard._"

"Naughty, Arthur," Francis scolded, tapping Arthur's nose with the tip of his index finger. Arthur nearly recoiled from his sudden and unwanted touch. "What have I told you about being respectful to your master? If you're such a masochist that you want these painful punishments that I have to give you, then just speak up, please." Arthur remained silent, but glared at Francis. "Nothing to say? That's fine. Now come on, it's rude to leave our guest waiting."

Francis took a seat across from Alfred and invited Arthur to sit next to him. Arthur grudgingly complied, brushing his sandy blond hair from his eyes. He couldn't take his gaze off of Francis; he wasn't going to leave that blood-sucking demon alone in the same room with his only family in the area.

"So tell me, Alfred," Francis began, folding his hands and resting his chin on his knuckles. He was staring directly at Alfred, who was playing with the kitten crawling around his chest and arms. "What do you do for a living? You look like a bright young man, so you're bound to have a decent job."

"Me? I'm a lawyer." Alfred grinned and scratched Iggy behind the ears. The kitten purred and leaned into his touch, mewling a little. "I actually live down in the States- on the east coast—you know, Massachusetts and New York and all that—but I'll sometimes come up here to visit Artie just because he's such a fun guy to go out drinking with."

"H-hey! Don't call me 'Artie,' you git!" Arthur blushed and scratched the bridge of his nose to hide his face.

"Be polite to our guest, pet," Francis growled. Arthur didn't look up. "Is that understood?"

Arthur could feel Alfred watching, his blue-eyed stare burning a hole in his skull. "Y-yes, I understand," Arthur whispered. There was no way in hell that Arthur would call Francis "Master" willingly in front of his family—

"And what do you call me by, _mon lapin?_"

Arthur didn't look up at either Francis or Alfred. He stared at his knees. This couldn't get any worse than it already was… "…Yes, I understand, Master."

Alfred gaped at Arthur as Francis ruffled the British man's hair and murmured a few words in his ear. "WOAH! 'Master?' Seriously? So you guys are in some kind of gay relationship where Francis like, the dominant one and Arthur is the submissive one? Damn, that's hilarious!" He giggled, removing his glasses to wipe a few tears from the corners of his eyes. "But I never thought of you as that type of guy, Arthur. I mean, I always thought that you were into girls."

Arthur glared. "Of course I'm into girls. I never said otherwise, did I?"

"Well, you are this guy's 'pet,' right?"

"Tea's ready," Elizabeta called, stepping into the dining hall holding a tray with three steaming mugs of the drink. She handed the mugs to everyone, and then quickly returned to the kitchen. Arthur watched her, wishing she had stayed to help drive the subject away from the embarrassing topic of "Master and Pet."

Francis smiled as he sipped his tea. "Ah, _oui, oui._ Arthur is my little pet, and I think that he's quite adorable. Hm?" He smiled at Arthur, who just raised his tea mug up to his face and pretended to sip it. Damn Francis for humiliating him in front of Alfred! Damn him!

"So…" Alfred began. "Is this 'pet' just sexual, or is it something else?"

"Well…" Francis chuckled softly. "You could say it's a little bit of both." He glanced fondly at Arthur. "Isn't that right, love?"

Arthur only kept the mug up by his face, mumbling a little, "Yes, Master."

"Oh, Alfred…" Francis began. "Be a good boy and tell me something. What is your blood type, hm?"

_CRASH!_ The mug slipped from Arthur's hands and crashed to the floor below him, the white ceramic shards scattering everywhere across the stained concrete floor, tea splashing all over the place. However, Arthur didn't seem to care as he jumped to his feet, his furious, burning emerald eyes glaring at Francis. "If you dare touch my cousin, vampire, I will chop off your head with a carving knife!"

Francis smirked coolly up at Arthur. "Sit back down, _mon lapin_. You know that you lack the physical strength and ability to kill me. Besides, you're not in any place to be telling me what I should or shouldn't do."

"To hell with that!" Arthur snapped. This bastard wouldn't be able to get away with drinking Alfred's blood. "Lay a hand on him and see what happens, you son of a bitch!"

Alfred stared, bewildered, at Arthur. "Artie… I've never heard you use that language before! Did you just snap or something? What's wrong with you? And what the hell is going on? Vampire? Is there some kind of camera filming us for a television show? Seriously, what…" Alfred was silenced with a hard glare from Francis.

"Alfred, _mon ami_, do me a favor and sit there quietly for a moment s'il vous plait." Francis smiled. "Arthur apparently doesn't yet know his place in this house."

"W-what are you doing?" Alfred managed to say, his hands visibly trembling. "You're not going to harm Arthur, are you?"

"Harm him?" Francis repeated with a cold smile. "Not unless he's so masochistic that he wants to be hurt and humiliated in front of you. Now come here, Arthur. Stand in front of me." Arthur didn't budge from his spot as if he were rooted to the ground. Francis sighed in exasperation. "Didn't I just say that I wasn't going to hurt you? Now come over here before I change my mind." Arthur only paused for a moment longer before trudging over to Francis. "Good boy," Francis praised. He reached up and started to open up Arthur's shirt, successfully pulling it open and revealing the white bandage that covered the wound on his chest. Arthur flushed but didn't object as Francis began to peel away the bandage, slowly…

"A rose?" Alfred questioned, leaning over to get a better view of the cut on Arthur's chest. "Is that a rose? Woah, is that, like, carved in your skin? What the hell?"

Arthur bit his lip; hard enough to accidentally tear away a bit of the skin as Francis chuckled and drew the pads of his fingers around the image. "Indeed, this is cut into the skin of my pet," he replied, looking up at Alfred and smiling. "It's to mark who his master is. Isn't that right, mon petit lapin?" Arthur didn't reply.

Alfred rose to his feet unsteadily, pushing in his chair and inching towards the door. "Well, it's been fun, nice meeting you and all, but I really should be going," he said. "I'm going to take Iggy back to my hotel, Arthur, but if you change your mind, just give me a call within the next few days because I'm leaving to go back home soon… Bye!" With those words, Alfred bolted for the door. Francis glanced up from Arthur, a low growl sounding in his throat. He lunged at lightning speed, his clawed hand catching Alfred's shoulder before the human could turn the handle on the front door. Iggy mewled and leapt from the blond man's arms, scampering to Arthur. "Let go!" Alfred demanded, attempting to jerk away from Francis but to no avail. "You're fucking insane! Let go of me!"

The corners of Francis's lips turned up in a chilling smile. His fangs were extended, glittering in the light of the chandelier that hung above them. "You're staying, Alfred. Your neck smells too sweet to let go…" He leaned in to bite Alfred's neck.

"Fuck," Arthur cursed under his breath, dashing out to the front door. In a few seconds, he had tackled Francis to the ground, sitting on top of his torso with his knees digging into the vampire's ribs. His face was blushing at the rather awkward position, but he refused to budge.

Francis eyed Arthur flirtatiously. "And I thought that I would be on top. But if that's the way you want it…"

"Damn you," Arthur spat venomously. He turned to Alfred. "Alfred, run! Just leave Iggy here and run for your life! Don't look back, go home, and don't ever come here again! Just run!"

"But what about you?" Alfred asked, bewildered. His hand was on the door handle but he didn't make any move to open it. "I can't leave you here with this psychotic maniac!"

Arthur felt Francis shifting his weight beneath him. "You're going to have to do that!" he called back. "Hurry! Get out of here!" Alfred hesitated, but only for a moment longer. He flung open the door, slamming it behind him and fleeing the house.

"Arthur," Francis snarled. "Let me up this instant and I might actually consider giving you only half as many lashes with the Cat o' Nine Tails when I beat you with it." Arthur complied, standing back as Francis climbed to his feet and glowered at the human ferociously. "You let my prey escape, Arthur," he stated coldly, brushing himself off. "I think that it's pretty much common sense to know that a pet shouldn't take away their master's _meal_. You do realize, though, that tonight I'm going to feed on you after you're properly punished."

"Yes, _Master,_" Arthur muttered sardonically, rolling his eyes. "I promise that I won't do it again, Master."

Francis didn't seem to mind Arthur's sarcastic tone of voice. "It's a pity, too, since you were just whipped this morning. And you had that rose carved into you, not to mention the plans that I made for tonight." He licked his lips before continuing. "But on a second thought, I want you fresh for what we'll be doing… so I think I'll let you off easy this one time and this _one time only_. I assure you though, if this happens again, Arthur, I will beat you for twice as long as I did this morning."

"I'll die if you do that," Arthur challenged.

Francis smirked. "I'll make sure that you don't."

"I'll be in the bedroom, Arthur," Francis called as he headed up the stairs. "After you're done eating with the other humans, why don't you take a shower and come join me?"

"Alright, Master," Arthur murmured, nodding and waiting for Francis to disappear into the second floor before turning away to the dining room. He expected to find Lovino and Elizabeta already started on dinner, but instead the meal (of mashed potatoes and some turkey) sat untouched in the center of the table. The other two humans were sitting next to each other, their expressions eerily grim. Arthur sat down across from them, eyeing the food before he spoke. "Is something wrong?"

Elizabeta nodded. "Arthur, we want to talk to you about something. This is serious, and very important for you to know." Lovino was looking a little uneasy already as Elizabeta spoke. "We know that Francis has 'made plans' for the two of you tonight. Are you aware of what that means?"

"Y-yes, I think so…" _Why do they bring this up now?_

Elizabeta's eyes narrowed. "So you know that Francis is going to… _violate_ your body."

Arthur nodded. He knew this was coming. "Yes, I know that."

"Lovino will give you some advice, then." Elizabeta motioned to the chestnut-haired boy next to her, who was tugging nervously at the collar of his shirt. "Anytime you're ready, Lovino. If you want me to leave the room while you're talking, I can do that."

Lovino shrugged. "It… it doesn't really matter to me…" he mumbled. "You've heard all of this before… and… it just doesn't make a difference whether you're here or not. I-I'll just be giving this bastard some advice on how to deal with that shit, okay? Stupid bitch…"

Arthur scratched the side of his head anxiously. Lovino didn't usually act like this, even if he was cussing a lot like he normally did. He seemed to be doing it more out of apprehension than habit. "Okay, Lovino," Elizabeta said. "I'll stay here, but if at any time you want me to leave, just say so." Lovino just nodded silently and faced Arthur, his copper eyes not meeting Arthur's emerald green ones.

"Arthur," Lovino said quietly. "What I'm going to tell you comes from my own experience. I know… I know that vampires are dead, but something inside of them must be able to… imitate blood. It can… it can circulate through them, at least through their lower region…" He looked away, his face bright red. "So… vampires can still get… hard." Arthur blinked; He wasn't expecting Lovino to say that. "Anyways… uh, vampires are usually ice-cold, but sometimes, they aren't… and they can still secrete fluids… you know? So you should be prepared for that… and… just remember to tell Francis to be gentle. It's gonna be your first time, right? You probably don't want your body to be mauled after just one night of doing it. But Francis is probably gonna be too rough on you anyways. If he hurts you too much, yell out for him to stop. Chances are if he doesn't, one of us will come and help you out if absolutely necessary. Okay?"

"T-thank you for the advice," Arthur said.

"And now that the awkward conversation is over, let's start eating!" Elizabeta announced, passing the mashed potatoes to Arthur. Arthur looked down at the food, almost disgusted. Just a few minutes ago he was starting to get a stomachache from hunger, but now he seemed to have lost his appetite. He pushed it back and smiled weakly up at Elizabeta.

"I'm not hungry anymore," he murmured. "I think I'll just go upstairs now. But thanks anyways… see if you can leave some leftovers for me, okay? I'll probably be eating something in the morning."

Lovino shrugged as he scooped some of the potatoes onto his plate. "If you can even walk when morning comes around... But yeah, we'll save some for you."

"Good luck, Arthur," Elizabeta said as Arthur headed away. "See you in the morning…"

The way that she had said that made it sound like he was being given the death sentence.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, well, you guys are awesome for reading this all the way through. Sex scene coming up. Not too sure how to write it... but I'm probably not going to make it graphic.<strong>

**Reviews are love~~**


	5. Antonio's Past and Little Surprises

Arthur peeked into the bedroom, seeing Francis sitting on the bed, sipping red wine from a clear glass that sparkled in the moonlight from the window. "_Salut,"_ the vampire greeted, taking another leisurely sip of the alcoholic drink. "Have a seat over here next to me, pet. Would you like some wine?"

"N-no thanks," Arthur replied with a polite smile.

"Don't smile like that."

Arthur glanced up at Francis as he sat down on the bed as far away from the other as possible. "Pardon?"

Francis set the wineglass on the white, wooden nightstand beside the bed. "That smile. It looks too forced on that delicate human face of yours. You didn't really want to smile, right? I'll bet you're just nervous… if you don't want to smile, love, then don't. I won't make you."

Arthur watched Francis cautiously. "You make me do a lot of things that I don't want. How would I know that you don't want me to smile when I don't want to?"

The vampire simply shrugged. "I will allow you to do some things and will restrict you from others," he said simply. "Rules are rules, love. Now come sit here, next to me." He patted the bed covers beside him. Reluctant, Arthur scooted closer to his master, looking up at him and waiting for his next move. "Good boy," Francis praised, his hand cradling the other's face while he leaned in for a kiss. Arthur's first instinct was to recoil, but he remained perfectly still as Francis's lips enveloped his own, a saliva-dampened tongue probing at his lips and asking for an entrance. Arthur wasn't too sure what he was doing when he opened his mouth and let the vampire violate every corner of his oral cavity, but he knew that it felt so good… Arthur's hand lifted itself and wrapped around the back of Francis's neck, pulling him just a little closer. He felt Francis's lips curl up in the beginnings of a smirk, but he ignored it as he tenderly kissed the other back, drawing his own tongue over the sharp teeth of the vampire. His breath carried the aroma of wine that was sweet to breathe in.

After just a few more moments, Francis drew back with a smile resting on his face. "I'm a vampire, so I don't need to breathe. But you, on the other hand, are a human. Take a few deep breaths, love."

Arthur did as he was instructed, gasping heavily for the air that he had missed during the passionate kiss that the two had shared. Already, his face was warm and blushing, and he could feel a slight tightening of his pants. Francis waited for Arthur to regulate his breathing before diving at him again and kissing his neck suddenly, the sharp points of his teeth nipping at his flesh. "Nnh…" Arthur moaned, tilting his neck and allowing himself to be pushed to the bed as Francis continued to kiss him and mark him with his teeth. "Francis… Ahn…"

Francis's lips moved down Arthur's neck, his fingers working to open up and remove his shirt so he could continue along the length of the human's body. He somehow managed to take away Arthur's shirt altogether, tossing it to the side and drawing his tongue over the other's chest. Arthur let out a small whimper as Francis kissed his chest and stomach all over, his hands now ready to take off his pants…

"Stop…" Arthur moaned, looking up at Francis. His emerald eyes were shining with a feverish glow, but he didn't want this to happen to him. "Stop… please… This isn't right. It's… uncivil and… and vulgar. I can't do this with you…"

Francis didn't seem to care at all as his hand slowly slipped underneath the fabric covering the bulge in the British man's lower regions. "But I want to do this with you, pet," he purred melodiously. "And you must do as your master says."

* * *

><p>"Francis's Journal. Date: June 12, 1980.<p>

Arthur is sleeping quite soundly next to me as I write this. I don't think he knows that I still keep a journal… But right now, his face his very pale. I think that I took too much blood when I drank from him last night. He looks uncomfortable as he sleeps. He must be ill now. But I don't regret what I did to him. What a lovely time it was, our bodies pressed together and such a heat flowing around us. I wouldn't expect heaven to be anything less than the ecstasy that I felt in our love. Only once before had I felt this way, and that was hundreds of years ago. I've almost lost track of how long ago I was together with her.

Do I regret what I did to Arthur? No, not in the least. He is my pet, he is mine to do what I want with him. And he cannot deny that he wanted it. His screams of pleasure and cries for more, and his body begging to be taken. I wanted him, and he wanted me.

I will have Elizabeta treat him when he wakes. For now, I must watch him carefully until he shows signs of consciousness, with great hope that it will not be for long.

I love Arthur Kirkland.

* * *

><p>Arthur groaned and shifted his body underneath the covers. His entire body felt oddly warm, despite his lack of clothing. His head and chest were pounding, and something cold and damp was sitting on top of his forehead. A towel moistened with water. Arthur reached up and felt his cheek. It was burning up. With a heavy sigh, he relaxed his body, realizing with great disappointment that his body had a fever; and just after a night with Francis, too.<p>

"Just don't be moving around too much, okay, Arthur?" Arthur turned his head to the side to see Elizabeta sitting in a chair next to him, her hands folded on her lap. She was wearing a pretty yellow dress and her bangs were pulled back with flower clips. She looked like sunshine. Beautiful. "How do you feel right now, Arthur? Your fever isn't too bad, but it's still a fever."

"I feel fine," Arthur lied. He felt far too warm. "Have you been taking care of me, Eliza?" He was about to sit up, but as he shifted his body slightly to do so, Elizabeta stood up suddenly from her chair and placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, gently pressing down to keep him from rising.

"Stay down," she ordered. "You need lots of rest. I'll only let you sit up to eat, okay? And yes, I have indeed been taking care of you. Francis has been, too. He cares about your well-being."

A thin smile spread across Arthur's face. "Even after abusing and violating me?"

"Well, you're his pet, after all." Elizabeta removed the wet cloth from Arthur's head, dropping it into a water-filled bucket beside her and squeezing it to absorb the water before returning it to the man's forehead. Arthur sighed softly as the cool water relieved the burning sensation in his forehead for just a few brief moments. "Maybe he likes you. You know, as in love."

Arthur's eyes snapped wide open. He stared at Elizabeta in disbelief, thoughts swirling in his mind like a hurricane. Francis didn't love him. There was no way that the sadistic son of a bitch who bit him and treated him like his dog would truly fall for him. It simply wasn't possible. "You're mad," he said with a weak laugh, scratching the side of his neck. It was itchy. He noticed something.

There was no bandage.

"W-what?" Arthur stammered, feeling the other side of neck as well, where Francis had bitten and drank from the previous night. There was nothing but unbroken and unmarked skin that felt smooth to the touch. He glanced up at Elizabeta, his emerald eyes wide with pure confusion. "What happened to the bandage on my neck? Why isn't there any mark? He bit me last night… I remember that if anything at all, but there is nothing there!"

Elizabeta didn't seem to be as concerned about the situation as Arthur was. She just sat calmly, her head tilted to the side slightly with her light brown hair falling over her shoulder. "Francis can heal you with his saliva. He's a vampire, so he can do that…"

"Oh…" Arthur nodded, his face flushing slightly. "T-that's right… he did say that. I was worrying over nothing…"

"That's right," Francis's voice came from the door. Arthur snapped his head up, cringing as a sudden ache stung his head and he was forced to lie back down. Francis strode in and stood beside the bed, looking down at the human with amusement dancing in his sapphire eyes like little winged fairies. "I healed you, Arthur. There's nothing to be worried about at all."

The tone of voice that Francis held only made Arthur even more concerned. "And I suppose that you're telling the truth?" Arthur questioned dryly, rubbing his temples and praying that his headache would go away soon.

"Watch that tone of voice, Arthur," Francis replied sharply.

"Answer my question," Arthur shot back. He was starting to feel a little irritated.

Francis's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm sorry?" he whispered, his voice made of ice so cold that when you went to touch it, you were burned. "Say that again, _please_."

Arthur uttered a low growl in the back of his throat. "Just leave me alone, vampire. I'm ill and tired and I've got a headache. I'm in no mood to deal with you today."

"Deal with me?" Francis arched one eyebrow and leaned over the bed, staring at Arthur intently. "You'll see me every waking moment of your day, Arthur, whether you like it or not." Arthur flinched as he felt Francis's fingers stroke the side of his neck gently, his fingernails grazing his skin.

"Francis!" Elizabeta exclaimed, storming over and roughly shoving him away from Arthur. The vampire stumbled back, shocked and staring at Elizabeta like she was insane. "I don't want you touching Arthur while he's sick, do you hear me? He's not lying at all when he says that he needs rest. So back off!" Her last words were spat out like venom. Francis opened his mouth to reply, his eyes flashing with anger as he was about to scold her, but Elizabeta continued to speak. "I don't want any unnecessary stress put on Arthur, Francis. Now get the hell out of this room, and I don't want to see you set foot in here again. Got that?"

Francis stood his ground as if rooted in place. "This is my room," he insisted rather childishly.

Elizabeta stamped her foot on the ground. "I don't care. Arthur is trying to rest here and you're definitely not helping. So get out."

Arthur watched the two quarrel, yawning. Even just after waking, he was quite sleepy. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off into a light nap.

* * *

><p>"Well, what do we have here," chuckled the blond man, roughly thrusting the albino to his feet by his shirt collar. The other man didn't reply, his red eyes gleaming with defiance as well as fear. Pure, delicious fear. The blond man licked his lips and glanced back at the brown-haired Spaniard. "Toni, mon ami, it's dinnertime. And look at how fresh he is."<p>

"_Si, _Francis!" Antonio, the Spanish vampire, came up behind Francis and observed the frightened albino man in silence for a few moments before grinning, his sharp teeth protruding out of his other dazzling white teeth. "What a cutie!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "Who gets first bite, Francis? Please, let me have it this time!"

"Mm…" Francis purred, staring at the albino in awe. He had a perfect, slim body with a slight build (that could be seen where his shirt had been ripped open) and crimson eyes that complimented his silvery white hair, making him look absolutely gorgeous. But most of all, the fear that glazed his eyes caught Francis's attention. The ruby-colored jewels of his irises were surrounded by a thick white rim as he stared back up at his captor. "I don't know. I suppose I can let you have the first bite, Antonio…"

The human attempted to jerk himself out of the firm grip of the vampire, but it was no use. He was too weak due to the injuries that covered his body and the strength of Francis. "S-shit!" he cursed. "Y-you're not really going to bite me, are you? You two aren't really vampires, right? Y-y-you're just fucked up guys in fucking costumes, aren't ya? Oh, please just let me live… I've got a brother at home waiting for me! He's waiting for me to come back…"

"Shut up," Francis spat, swinging his right leg around swiftly. It connected with the man's stomach, sending a stream of saliva from his mouth as the wind was knocked out of him. "Your talking was cute for a while, but it's getting annoying. So shut up."

The man nodded obediently. "_Ja, ja_," he gasped out in ragged breaths. "I'll do whatever you say…" He smirked suddenly, whipping his head up. "JUST KIDDING!" With that, he balled his hand into a tight fist and slammed it into Francis's stomach. But to his horror, Francis wasn't affected in the least.

"Why, that's not very nice," Francis purred to him, his voice rumbling in the back of his throat like a car motor. He flung the man to the forest floor harshly, earning a small cry from him as his face hit the frost-hardened soil.

Antonio watched, his head cocked to the side. Oh, how he envied that man. Just once, he wanted to feel the brutal sting of a whip from Francis, a hard slap to the face by his ice-cold hands, the blond vampire lapping up the Spaniard's blood like a dog…

"Toni," Francis barked. "You can drink from him now. Let's take all of his blood. Let's turn him into…" the volume of his voice dropped as a cold smirk formed on his face. "…one of us."

* * *

><p>Arthur rubbed his eyes sleepily, sitting up in the soft white bed and quietly observing his surroundings. The damp white cloth slid off his head and onto the pillow beside him. He was feeling a little better than before, but he was still quite warm. A small noise reached his ears. He glanced around. There was no one in the room but him.<p>

There it was again. That shuffling sound, like a blanket moving. Arthur checked his body. No, he wasn't having random convulsions that he couldn't feel underneath the blankets. Just where was that odd noise coming from?

He glanced down.

Iggy was walking around on the covers, his tail sticking straight up like he was proud to be up on the bed next to his owner. When he saw that Arthur was looking at him, his green eyes lit up and he started to purr like crazy.

"Iggy!" Arthur breathed, picking up his kitten and holding him against his chest. The Scottish Fold licked his chin and meowed happily. "I had forgotten that you stayed! You must have run off and hid somewhere after Alfred left, huh? But Alfred isn't going to be coming back for you… he can't come back…" Arthur glanced out the window. Rain was pouring down and pounding against the roof like crazy. "And I can't let you out in this awful weather, now can I? No, you're too precious to me… I suppose I'll have to let you stay here."

Iggy mewled and wriggled out of Arthur's hands, falling into his lap in a rather clumsy fashion as he plopped over on his side. But in a few moments, he curled up there, his nose tucked between his paws and his tail wrapped around his body. Arthur smiled, enjoying the feel of the warm kitten's fur on his legs. He was just a little fuzz ball of joy that would brighten anyone's day.

As he was scratching his kitten behind the ears, Arthur wondered what time it was. There wasn't any clock in the room. The only time-telling piece that he knew existed in this mansion was the grandfather clock by the front door. And because of the pounding rain outside, he couldn't see the sun's position in the sky to give him at least a little hint. Was it afternoon? Evening? There was no way of knowing.

Arthur remained in place for a few moments longer, running his hand down the length of Iggy's back. The kitten was purring loudly, the soft noise expression his pleasure blending in with that of the rain. He didn't even hear the click of the handle on the door being turned and a certain Spaniard entering silently, making sure that the door was secured behind him. Once Arthur realized that he was there, he watched him warily, knowing that this man could be dangerous when angered just as Francis was. "Hola," he murmured, sitting down on the bed and smiling at Arthur. It wasn't a happy smile.

Iggy started to hiss at Antonio, leaping from Arthur's lap and scampering under the bed while uttering low growling sounds. "I'm sorry, sir," Arthur apologized. "He usually likes people."

"That's okay," Antonio replied. "He just hates me because I'm dead."

A long, awkward silence filled the room.

"Ah… pardon me for asking, Antonio, sir, but why are you here?"

Antonio patted Arthur's shoulder. "Lovino said that you were sick, and that he was worried about you, so I decided to come in and check to see how you were doing. Are you holding up okay?"

"I'm fi—" Arthur's voice was broken by a sudden tingling in his throat and he paused to cough a few times before turning back to Antonio, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I guess I'm not fine," he admitted with a small laugh.

Antonio smiled again. He didn't look happy at all. Why was he smiling? "You know, Arthur, you're quite a lucky young man," the vampire commented, reaching up and brushing the human's blond bangs away from his pale forehead just like Francis had done many times before.

"Lucky how?" Arthur's voice came out more mocking than he had expected.

"You have…" Antonio withdrew his hand and placed it at his side. "…You have something that others don't. Something that others want."

"Oh?" Arthur smirked sardonically. "I live in an unfamiliar house with three vampires, being the pet of the most cruel, sadistic, and perverted one, my cousin was nearly killed by him, I was raped by him… Pray tell, sir. What is it that I have that someone else would want? Because I would give almost anything to be back home without any involvement in this fantasy mess."

Antonio's gaze drifted to the floor. He was absolutely quiet for what seemed like hours. Arthur only stared at him, waiting for an answer and refusing to give up until he got one. "It's hard to win the heart of someone who doesn't love you, who only sees you as a friend," he murmured. "You have him, Arthur. What I wouldn't give, to feel the caress of Francis's hands on my body as we act as lovers and not friends."

Arthur's heart seemed to skip a beat or two. What did Antonio say? Was he in… love with Francis? This cheery Spaniard was in love with that sadistic son of a bitch? "I-I beg your pardon?" the British man stammered, hoping that he had heard Antonio incorrectly. What he was saying couldn't have been right.

Antonio laughed; it was a hollow, empty laugh. "I envy you, Arthur. You're beaten by Francis when you misbehave… I desperately wish I was in your place."

So this guy's a masochist… Arthur thought, a little disturbed. He shivered a little, forcing himself to remain calm. It was quite odd hearing this man admit his masochistic love for Francis. "I-I see," he stammered in response. "B-but I thought you liked Lovino?"

The Spaniard's response was a shrug. "I do like him," he admitted. "But I don't love him. He's more like a little brother to me than a lover."

This conversation could only get more disturbing. "A-a-and yet you… do things with him… at night?" Arthur questioned.

Antonio nodded cheerfully as if he had been doing nothing wrong. "That's right." He scooted closer to Arthur and grinned. "But you know what? Once Lovi dies, he'll be out of the way, and then all that's standing between Francis and I is you~!" His sharp white canine teeth sparkled. "It's too bad that you humans don't live long."

Arthur let out a choked gasp as Antonio leaned in even closer, his ice-cold hands growing warm as they ran down the human's chest. The vampire licked his lips hungrily before pressing them up against Arthur's neck, his teeth teasing his soft flesh. Arthur couldn't move, paralyzed with fear and shock as Antonio took a deep breath, inhaling his scent with his eyes closed. "You smell like Francis," he murmured, tilting his head and gently biting Arthur's earlobe.

"S-stop," Arthur moaned as Antonio pushed him beneath his body and pulled back the blankets. "You can't do this… Francis will know…"

Antonio ignored him as he reached down, his fingers grazing…

"You. Son. Of. A. Mother. Fucking. Bitch." Francis stormed into the room, his nose twitching and his lips curling up into the beginnings of a snarl. Antonio immediately scrambled off of Arthur, his eyes wide with shock. Francis growled and lunged, swiping his hand at the other vampire's stomach and shredding his shirt, sending fabric flying in every which direction. Antonio stumbled back, staring up at Francis like a cornered rabbit. Francis loomed over him. "Just what were you trying to do with my pet, hm? Trying to _FUCK HIM?_" His last words came out as a roar as he shot his arm forwards and buried his hand directly into Antonio's stomach. Antonio's mouth opened… was it in pain? No sound came out. He writhed around desperately as Francis dug his hand even deeper inside of him, and to Arthur's horror, came out the other side, his fingers covered in a sticky pus-like liquid. "THAT IS UNFORGIVIABLE!" Francis screeched. He leaned in close, his tongue swiping around his lips as he saw the disgusting white liquid leaking from Antonio's gaping mouth. "Antonio…" he hissed. "You know that I'm going to kill you. I know exactly how and I'll do it in an instant."

"No, don't!" Antonio protested weakly, a shudder coursing through his body as Francis twisted his wrist around in his innards. "Please, Francis, I'm begging you! What will happen to Lovino if I die?"

Francis smirked coldly. "I'll kill him, too."

"DON'T!" Antonio wailed, tears forming at the rims of his forest green eyes. "You can't hurt Lovi! He's done nothing wrong!"

Arthur stared in horror for a moment longer before recovering and whispering, "Don't do it, Francis. Don't kill him."

Francis's head slowly turned to face Arthur. His eyes were blazing. "What did you just say?"

"Don't kill him," Arthur repeated, his voice still quiet. "He… he didn't know what he was doing." Truth be told, Arthur hated Antonio for what he did and wished that he would suffer for it, but he didn't want anyone killed. It would only make him feel guilty for being the cause of it.

Francis's sapphire eyes narrowed into cat-like slits. "You know what he was doing to you as well as I did, pet," he snarled. "You're my property and he's going to pay."

Something inside Arthur broke when Francis referred to him as his "property," but he remained as calm as he could. "Don't kill him. Please. He honestly didn't know what he was doing. It was all a mistake, Master."

Antonio let out a noise that sounded like he was trying to scream with a sore throat. His body was twitching uncomfortably and his hands were clenching and unclenching, but Francis still wouldn't remove his arm from his stomach. "If you really want him to live, _mon cher_, you're going to have to give me something in exchange. Something… something that you wouldn't normally give to me."

Arthur bit his lip. His body was heating up again. Was it from anxiety or his fever? "What are you asking for, Master?" he asked softly.

"Mm, your cousin would make a good exchange…" Francis mused. "He smelled so sweet when I met him. He was cute, too. A perfect meal."

"Arthur," Antonio rasped out, his voice grinding against his throat in an attempt to speak. "Don't do it. Don't trade me for anything that's precious to you. Francis can kill me. What I did was against our rules…" He was interrupted by a brutal cough, sending the pus-like fluid to fly from his mouth. "Please, just kill me soon," he groaned to Francis. "And don't hurt Lovino…"

Francis smirked. "I'll do what I please, Antonio. You'll rot in hell for daring to lay a hand on my pet."

Antonio let out a low moan as Francis tore his hand out of his stomach. "Then get it over with, Francis," he whispered hoarsely. "It hurts. I don't want to be like this for much longer."

Arthur stared in dismay at the scene before him. He felt so utterly helpless. He could do nothing to aid Antonio. Was that cheerful Spanish vampire really going to die? He shuddered as Antonio let out another moan, clearly trying to hold back a cry of agony as Francis began to drag his claw-like fingernails over his throat, the deep gashes in his throat oozing with more of the disgusting white liquid.

"Francis!" Arthur exclaimed, drawing the vampire's attention away from Antonio. He was glaring. He had noticed that Arthur had called him by his first name and not "Master" or "sir."

"Francis, I'll give you anything but Alfred! Please, don't kill him!"

Francis growled softly. "He was trying to violate you."

"Please!" Arthur begged. Almost forgetting that he was not clothed, he slid off of the bed and dropped to his knees next to Francis, his eyes wide. Quickly, he ducked his head down, leaning forwards until his forehead touched the floor. "I beg of you, Master! I beg of you, don't kill him! I'll give you anything but my cousin; I swear it, if you don't kill him!"

Francis pursed his lips together as he looked down at Arthur. "Is that so? Then I'll strike you a deal. I'll let Antonio live if you give me your…dignity."

Arthur lifted his head, eyes brimming with happiness. No one would have to die! "Thank you, Master!" he exclaimed joyously.

Francis didn't seem as pleased. "Antonio, stand up," he barked, snapping his fingers impatiently. "You're not that hurt. At least you're not dead."

Antonio nodded and, using the wall as support, staggered to his feet. "T-thank you," he whispered gratefully, limping out of the room. "I'll get myself cleaned up now. Thank you ever so much, mi amigo."

"And after you're done patching up those ugly wounds, you're cleaning up this mess that your body made," Francis replied, his voice still furious. "I don't care if you have to wait for the wounds to heal first. You are cleaning up your ugly fucking pus out of my bedroom."

Arthur watched, a sick feeling growing in his stomach as Antonio nodded. "Yes, anything in exchange for my life and Lovino's," he responded with a small bow at the waist.

"Wait!" Arthur cried out. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he felt sorry for Antonio. "D-don't make him clean up!" Francis whipped his head around, his blond hair whipping around his head as he did. "I-I'll clean up. Please, Master, let me do it."

Francis stared for a moment, a smirk slowly sliding up his face and a cruel glint coming into his eyes. "You're an odd one," he murmured. "But you know what? This will be a part of your end of the deal. I'll tell you what. I'll go into town today with Elizabeta. While she's shopping for food, I shall be out purchasing a new outfit for you. Once you have it on, we'll begin our exchange."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, Master."

"And you have to wear it for the entire day. Otherwise, Antonio will be dead in less than a few seconds."

"Yes, Master." Arthur nodded.

"If you dare try and take it off, you'll be punished as well."

"…Yes, Master. But tell me, what is this outfit?"

Francis grinned, his sharp teeth popping out against his other pearly whites. "Something… special. It will suit you, pet. I promise."

Arthur had no idea what the outfit was, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to find out. "…I'll wear it, Master, I promise."

* * *

><p>Francis entered the kitchen, where Arthur was leaning up against a counter, sipping some tea. His fever had gone down a little more, and he was feeling much better. His headache was gone as well, even though he had to forfeit the bedroom due to the awful smell of the liquids from Antonio's body. He was wearing a soft white bathrobe that he had found in the closet.<p>

"Arthur~!" Francis sang out, setting a bag down on the counter and pulling out its contents. "Here's your new outfit~! Put it on and clean up the mess in the bedroom, _s'il vous plait!_"

"You're acting awfully cheerful, Master," Arthur commented quietly.

"Indeed," Francis replied, flashing a bright smile to Arthur. "You'll look quite adorable in this, pet."

Arthur's face instantly paled at the sight of what Francis had purchased. He took a step back, setting his tea mug on the counter so he wouldn't drop it or crush it in his hands. "That's…" he whispered. "That's a maid outfit."

In Francis's hands was a black maid dress with lots of ribbons and a white apron, other accessories on it as well like frills and bows. The hem of the skirt seemed awfully short as well, which was just as embarrassing as having to wear that dress. "I can't wear that," Arthur stated, shaking his head in almost disbelief. "I can't. That's for women, Fra—Master."

Francis nodded. "Oui oui, but I can't help but think that you would look just darling in this," he said, handing the dress to Arthur. "Go up to the bedroom and put it on before I put on for you, pet. And then, under my supervision, you'll be cleaning up Antonio's mess."

Arthur nodded, a nervous smile etched on his face. Just remember, this is for Antonio's life. This is just so that no one will get killed. Besides, you only have to wear it for one day. You can last that long. You can do it. Arthur took the dress and started to head up the stairs to the bedroom, knowing quite well that Francis was staring after him, a large grin on his face.

He slammed the door behind him, making sure that it was securely locked before beginning to shed his bathrobe. There was no way he could stand anyone walking in on him. As much as he would have liked to have some fresh air to clean out the putrid stench of the vampire 'blood,' he didn't dare open up the door again or even a window for that matter. After he had stripped himself and was standing in just his boxers, he carefully pulled on the dress, making sure that all of the ribbons were tied correctly and the hem of the skirt had gone down as far as it could go. He pulled open the closet and checked his reflection in the mirror attached to the inside of the door. The skirt of the dress didn't even reach down to his knees… It wasn't even close. Thankfully, he was still wearing his boxers so nothing else would show from underneath the dress. Now all that he needed were cleaning supplies. Which were… down the hall, in the bathroom. As long as nobody saw him… Arthur unlocked the door, pulling it open to stare into the eager face of Francis. Surprised, Arthur stumbled back, nearly falling over. "Salut," the vampire greeted, a small grin on his face. "Would you look at that, Arthur? I was absolutely right! You are so cute in that dress! But…" His tongue swiped over his lips. "You can't wear those under the dress. It doesn't look right."

"W-wear what, Master?" Arthur stammered. He knew very well what Francis was speaking of, though.

"Those boxers," Francis pointed out. "They simply don't look right. Take them off."

"Off?" Arthur gaped. "What on earth would I wear underneath this damned dress, then?"

"Nothing." Francis's tone of voice made it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Now come on, remove them. And don't curse like that. Gentleman don't curse."

"Gentleman don't wear humiliating maid's dresses, either," Arthur quipped. Francis glowered at him.

"I can make you do many other unpleasant things, _mon cher_, but you're lucky that I'm only making you wear this," he retorted. "Now do as I say and remove your boxers."

Arthur glared at Francis before doing as he was told, trying to cover his groin with the hem of the dress. It just barely did.

"_Bon!_" Francis clapped his hands together. "I'll get you some supplies—" He broke off in mid-sentence as a small mewl from under the bed caught his ears. "A cat?" he questioned, dropping to his knees and lifting up the skirt of the bed. Arthur heard a fierce hiss from his kitten, and Francis withdrew his face to show Arthur a few scratches down the side of his cheek. "Arthur," Francis said coldly, standing up. "Isn't this your cat?"

Arthur's eyes stretched wide with dismay. Would Francis hurt his cat? Or worse, kill him? "Y-yes, Master, he is. His name is Iggy, and he's usually such a good cat, I swear it on my heart, but he doesn't care much for the walking dead. It probably makes him feel uncomfortable that something that smells like it should be in a grave is walking around like something alive."

"Are you insulting me?" Francis demanded, rubbing the scratches on his face. They weren't red or even the least bit swollen, but the vampire must have been absolutely livid.

"What? N-no, Master! I'm explaining to you that Iggy wouldn't hurt you if you weren't dead… he's not comfortable around that kind of thing!"

Francis growled, the noise coming from the back of his throat. "Then you're going to have to get rid of him. If you don't have the heart to toss him out into the rain, animal blood is a perfectly good substitute for a human."

"NO!" Arthur screeched, his voice coming out louder and higher than he expected it to, but he continued. "You can't hurt Iggy! He's my precious little kitten! And I can't put him outside!" As if in response to Arthur's protest, lightning flashed in the distance. "Please, Francis, let him stay! As long as I can't get a good home for him, allow him to stay with us! I'll keep him away from you…"

Francis cast the bed a disgusted look as Iggy peeked his head out from behind one of the wooden bedposts and bared his teeth in a fearsome but rather adorable little snarl. "You have two days to find a new home for Iggy but after that he's either gone from this house or dead. Understood?"

"Yes, Master." Arthur bowed his head. "I'll take full responsibility for finding a new home for him. I will have him out of here by then."

"You had better," Francis snapped, turning out of the room. "I'll be back in a minute."

Arthur stared at Iggy, who had started to purr at the disappearance of the vampire. "Iggy," he murmured. "Forgive me for not being able to keep you. Tomorrow we can go out and get you a new home." Iggy meowed and crawled out further from underneath the bed, rubbing the side of his head up against his ankles.

* * *

><p>Okay, guys, thanks for reading this. I'm sure that there are a billion mistakes that I may or may not fix due to absolute laziness. And this chapter feels a little short. Bleh.<p>

Yeah, Toni's a masochist in my story. Werewolves in next chapter? Maybe? Yes? No? Whatever the heck I feel like?

~G


	6. Torture

Francis returned with the cleaning supplies, a few bottles of mysterious liquids and a couple of rags. He pushed them into Arthur's hands, glowering at Iggy who was already bolting for the safety of being underneath the bed. "Clean," he ordered, pointing to the mess on the floor and walls. Arthur nodded and hurried over, dropping to his knees in front of the white liquid and examining the liquid on the bottles before choosing one to spray into a rag and begin wiping up the mess. He felt Francis's gaze transfixed on him. Was he smiling? He couldn't tell. However, as he mopped up the disgusting white liquid, he felt a hand gently touch his rear end and begin to stroke it.

"A-ah!" Arthur let out a small cry as Francis continued to caress him. "S-stop that!" Francis didn't even hesitate as he slid his hand around to his front. "Master!" Arthur cried, a small shudder coursing through his body as he was touched. "Stop!"

Francis chuckled as he stroked Arthur's length tenderly. "Don't mind me, pet. Seeing you clean up in that maid's outfit is starting to turn me on…" As he spoke, Arthur noticed that the vampire's body temperature was heating up a bit.

"L-l-let go!" Arthur demanded, vainly wriggling around. "I need to finish cleaning—ahn!" He shivered as Francis passionately kissed his neck, wondering if he would be bitten. "You bastard," he gasped out as Francis licked his earlobe while still touching his lower regions. "Is this why y-you wanted… nn… me to wear… ah… this?"

"_Oui._" Francis's was so skilled with his fingers… Arthur uttered a low moan and instinctively spread his legs, giving Francis more room to play with him. "Ah, _mon cher…_" Francis whispered in his ear softly. "The expression on your face is just charming. You like this, don't you? And look, you're already getting hard."

Arthur's response was a whimper as he shifted around under Francis's touch. "D-don't," he begged. "I-if you continue, there will be more of a mess to clean up…"

"So what?" Francis purred, both of his hands caressing Arthur's length now. "You volunteered to clean this in Antonio's place. This is part of the cleaning, obviously, if you wanted to do this."

"Please…" Arthur whispered, gasping slightly as he felt a sticky liquid drip around his lower region. "Stop…"

"Hush," Francis murmured, drawing his tongue over his neck. "Just be quiet for as long as you can, alright? We don't want to disturb anyone else in the house."

* * *

><p>Arthur sighed as he wiped up the white mess on the floor beside the bed. It was bad enough that he had to clean up vampire blood, but now his own fluids as well; it was making him feel a little ill again. Francis was sitting on the bed, calmly pulling his shoulder-length blond hair up into a short ponytail with a light blue ribbon while watching Arthur carefully.<p>

With a small grin of triumph, Arthur looked up at Francis. "I'm finished," he declared, standing up and holding the damp and sticky rags with two pinched fingers. "Where shall I put these?"

Francis leaned over and examined the clean floor and wall. "So you are," he commented. "Take them downstairs and put them in the kitchen sink and pray to your God that Elizabeta doesn't see you in that outfit. How humiliating for you if she does…" he chuckled to himself a little. "Now go, go. Come back up once you're finished."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, Master!" Gratefully, he hurried out of the room, carrying the bottles and the rags with him. Anything to get away from Francis… anything… Even bumping into Lovino in the hallway.

Lovino rubbed his head and glared at Arthur. "Ouch! Your head hit mine, damn it! You fucking bastard! Son of a…" His voice trailed off into a shocked silence as he stared at Arthur's dress. "…That's a dress," he pointed out.

"Yes, it is," Arthur retorted, his face blushing. "O-on a different subject, how's Antonio doing?"

Lovino shrugged. "He's fine, I guess. He's not smiling very much and that icky blood stuff has stopped coming out of his wounds, but he's not going to die." He suddenly stamped his foot on the ground, his face red with anger. "But damn it, I can't believe that Francis, that motherfucker, went and hurt him like that! He's never done anything to piss him off like that!" Lovino looked up at Arthur pleadingly. "But he won't tell me what he was doing to make Francis angry! Do you know? You were there, right?"

Arthur swallowed nervously. From what he knew, Antonio engaged in "nightly activities" with Lovino. There was that chance that Lovino was in love with Antonio, so how could Arthur say that he was about to violate him? "Look, Lovino. I've really got to put this stuff away… And I'm not in much of a mood to talk right now." He started to slip past Lovino, but the Italian boy grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"Fucker," he growled. "You're not leaving until I know what Antonio was doing. It's too obvious that you know, Arthur. So tell me."

Arthur looked down at the ground. "Lovino, I should get going now."

"Fuck that!" Lovino snapped. "Tell me!"

"If you want to know, ask Antonio yourself," Arthur replied. "I can't tell you. He might not want you to know."

Lovino grabbed Arthur by the collar of the dress and thrust him up onto his toes. "That's why I want you to tell me! He won't! I want to know, damn it!"

Arthur glowered at him. "I can't do that. Let go of me."

Lovino let out a loud Italian exclamation of anger but did release the British man, fury burning in his eyes. He opened his mouth, looking about to speak, but instead he spun around on his heel and stormed away, his hands clenched into angry fists at his sides.

The British man watched him for a bit longer, observing how he entered his and Antonio's room and slammed the door shut, screaming some incomprehensible Spanish and Italian at Antonio. He could faintly hear Antonio talking softly to him, and Lovino screaming at him some more.

"_CHE PALLE! BASTARDO! ¡Te odio! _(What balls! You bastard! I hate you!)_ MOTHERFUCKER!" _ The last insult that Lovino spat out didn't need to be translated by a genius.

_ "Lovino, Por favor, silencio… estoy herido… _(Lovino, please be quiet… I'm hurt…)"

_ "JODER! ¿Por qué no me lo dijiste? _(Fuck! Why won't you tell me?)_"_

_ "Lovnio…" Antonio coughed. "Estoy herido_…(Lovino… I'm hurt…)"

Arthur winced as something that sounded like it was made of glass shattered against a wall. Lovino had some serious temper issues… he hurried down the stairs, not wanting to be caught up in the angry hurricane that was Lovino. Unfortunately, upon entering the kitchen, he stumbled into Elizabeta.

"Oh!" Elizabeta backed away a few paces. "Sorry, Arthur, I…" Her eyes widened and a small smile slowly grew on her face. She clapped her hand over her mouth to hide her expression, but Arthur could hear her muffled giggles. "Sorry," she laughed, her eyes trailing over the maid dress. "I… I wasn't expecting that. Did Francis make you wear that?"

Arthur glared at her. Normally he wouldn't give her such a rude look, but it should have been obvious. "_No,_" he replied sarcastically. "It's just one of my hobbies to dress like a girl."

Elizabeta looked hurt, sending a twinge of pain through Arthur's heart. He didn't mean to make her feel bad. "Arthur…" she murmured, stepping closer to him and grasping his hand in hers. "You know that no matter what Francis makes you do, I'll always love you."

Arthur let out a small gasp as Elizabeta stood on her tiptoes and gently kissed him on the lips. He instantly pulled away, his eyes wide. Elizabeta only stared at him, confused. "Is something wrong?"

"Y-you know that we can't be together," Arthur murmured, covering his mouth with the back of his hand and looking away, his face red. "We'll be punished again. We both know that, Eliza."

Elizabeta's face fell. "Yes, you're right, but… don't you love me?"

Arthur's green eyes flickered in her direction for a moment before striding to the sink and dropping the soiled rags in it. "Why else would I be protecting you from punishment?" Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked off, the ribbons on his maid's dress bouncing with the rhythm of his pace.

"Ah, _mon petit lapin_," Francis called, beckoning Arthur with his hand. "Come, come. Have a seat!" Arthur did as he was told immediately, plopping down on the bed beside Francis. He kept his gaze transfixed on the vampire in case he decided to try and pull anything on him. Much to his dismay, though, he did. "What's that look in your eyes, pet?" Arthur did his best to resist Francis's firm grip that jerked his chin up and forced unwanted eye contact, but it was to no avail. Francis clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disapproval. "Tell me, what were you doing downstairs with Elizabeta, Arthur?" Arthur's mouth opened slightly in confusion at Francis's sudden accusation, but no sound came out. How could he answer that?

At last, he lowered his gaze from the vampire's and muttered, "I wasn't doing anything, Master."

Francis smirked. "Your eyes say otherwise. It's quite obvious how guilty you are. Now look me in the eyes and tell me that you weren't kissing her down in the kitchen."

"I wasn't—"

"Go ahead, pet. Lie to me. See how many more lashes that earns you after the one hundred you've already got from kissing that little whore."

"How dare you call her that!" Arthur wrenched his face out of Francis's hand and stood up abruptly, glaring furiously at the surprised vampire. "How dare you! She is not a whore, and how indecent of you to say that about her!"

Francis scratched the back of his neck lazily. "Not a whore, you say? Then, why is she kissing you and having sex with Gilbert while still technically married to Roderich? Tell me that, Arthur."

Arthur's eyes stretched wide. "She… she and Gilbert are…?"

"_Oui._ A filthy slut like her doesn't even deserve to harbor feelings for a perfect young gentleman like you." Francis smirked up at Arthur.

Anger was bubbling up inside of Arthur like a forest fire. It was absolutely impossible to contain. "SAY THAT AGAIN, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" he exploded.

"Arthur," Francis growled. "Sit back down."

"Not until you retract your previous statement about Ms. Elizabeta!" Arthur hissed.

"I said, _sit back down._"

"Fuck you!"

Now Francis rose to his feet, slowly, almost threateningly. "Arthur," he whispered. "If you use that kind of language with me again, I think you'll find out just how much it hurts to have your intestines torn out and stuffed back inside of you. The operation will occur while you're still conscious, and there will be no anesthetic at all. In fact, I might just let the open wounds in your stomach bleed out or catch a nasty little infection that will put you in agony until you die. How does that sound?"

Arthur took a step back. "You wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't I? Just like I wouldn't conduct an experiment to see how much little Scottish Fold kittens hate having their tails ripped off?"

"Don't you _dare._" Now Arthur was scared. He was pretty sure that Francis wouldn't do as he had threatened to him, but he knew for certain that he could and absolutely would maul his kitten as a way of making Arthur do what he wanted.

Francis tilted his head up, grinning triumphantly. "Then come over to me this instant, pet."

Arthur clenched his hands into fists stiffly by his sides and walked over to Francis, glaring up at the taller man. "I don't see why you have to do this." When Francis arched an eyebrow in mild confusion, Arthur continued. "Why do you do this, Master? You humiliate me, punish me for little things, you abuse me—"

"_Abuse_ you?" Francis's tone of voice hardened. "You think I _abuse_ you, Arthur? What I do to you is nowhere near _abuse_." He loomed over the smaller man, making him cringe slightly with fear. "If you were abused by me, Arthur, you would be covered in bruises and cuts and you wouldn't be able to walk without someone's support. You're very lucky that I take care of your wounds and give you proper clothing, food, and a place to sleep at night. But you know, if you want me to abuse you…"

"Absolutely not!" Arthur exclaimed, but seeing Francis's fierce glare, he looked away and just muttered, "No, Master, I don't want that."

"Good," Francis praised, patting Arthur on the head like a dog. "That was good, Arthur. That's how you respond to me from now on, understood?"

"…Yes, Master."

"Now let's get you out of that dress." Arthur glanced up with eager hope. Did he hear Francis correctly? Did he no longer have to wear the maid's dress? Francis chuckled and tilted up the human's chin again with his fingers. "You look like you want it off, oui? Well, I'm only taking it off so I can punish you downstairs. It's a little harder to tie you up when you're wearing that sort of dress. So come on, take it off. I'll find you some old clothes that I don't mind getting bloody to wear."

Arthur bit his bottom lip apprehensively. There was no escaping punishment for anything, was there? While Francis had his back turned, Arthur slipped out of the dress and pulled on his boxers, which were conveniently lying on top of the bed. Iggy meowed at him while he put on his underwear, poking his fuzzy little head out from under the bed skirts. Arthur looked down at him, and, smiling, dropped to one knee and patted his head. "Hey, Iggy," he whispered, scratching his kitten behind the ears. Iggy purred and leaned into Arthur's hand. "I promise I'll take good care of you for the rest of the time that I'm keeping you, okay? Can you be a good kitty for your new owner when I give you away? Can you, huh?" Arthur chuckled as Iggy looked up at him like he had just said that he wouldn't be giving him any kitty treats for the next month. His big green eyes sparkled, making Arthur pick him up and squeeze him, hugging him close to his chest. "You're such a good little cat, Iggy. I'll miss you when you have to go."

"Arthur." Arthur set Iggy down and slowly rose to his feet, taking the clothes that Francis held out to him. It was an ugly beige T-shirt and a pair of slacks that were a slightly darker color and had fabric that was a bit worn down around the knees, but he put it on anyways without hesitation. Anything was better than the maid's dress. Once he had it on, he followed Francis out of the room in silence, down to the basement. To his surprise, Francis went directly over to the large weapons cabinet and started to pull it to the side to reveal a large iron door with several detailed carvings in its surface.

"What's in there?" Arthur murmured. It was almost guaranteed that there was some sort of awful torture device beyond that door, but curiosity was getting the better of him and he had to ask.

Francis reached out and grasped the large iron ring that appeared to be the handle on the side of the door and pulled it open. It looked rather heavy. He motioned for Arthur to go inside with one hand in a flicking motion. Arthur did step inside, and with the dim light from the larger section of the basement, he could just barely make out a large metal chair sitting directly in the center of the room (was it the center? He couldn't see the wall across from him as a result of the absolute darkness!) with something on the ends of the large armrests. It was facing away from him, and it was quite difficult to make out exactly what it looked like. He turned back to Francis, who was leaning over to get something out of the cabinet. To his utter confusion, it was two pieces of black cloth. Francis entered the room as well, ushering Arthur over to the chair and pushing him gently down into it. Arthur set his arms down on the armrests, only to jerk them back up suddenly. The things that sat on the ends were leather straps. Oh, no…

"Arms down," Francis ordered. "I need to secure you properly." Arthur did so, a small shiver running through his body at the thought of being restrained like this. Once Francis was finished tightening the straps, he knelt down and put Arthur's legs into the straps on the front of the chair, He secured them quickly before standing up again and holding out one of the cloth strips in front of Arthur. He took one end in his left hand and the other in his right, reaching around Arthur's head and trying it neatly around his eyes. Blindfolded. Shit. Arthur attempted to move around as he felt Francis starting to tie the other piece of cloth around his mouth as a gag, but he could only thrash his head from side to side desperately and randomly. "Stay still!" Francis snapped. "I can strap your neck to the chair too, if that's what you want. That's not exactly difficult for me to do, but I can imagine that it's quite uncomfortable to breathe like that. Now stop thrashing around like a fish out of water so I can tie this."

As much as Arthur hated to comply with Francis's demands, he would have preferred being gagged to having his neck strapped to the chair. With great difficulty, he sat in still silence as Francis brought the cloth between his teeth and on top of his tongue, tying it tightly in the back of his head. Arthur stared at the darkness of the blindfold that blocked his vision, hearing Francis walk to the door and slam it shut. Now they were alone in the darkness. Francis strode back over to Arthur, placing his hand on the back of his head and trailing his fingers lightly through his messy blond hair. "This is like nothing you have ever experienced before," Francis murmured, bringing one finger down the side of Arthur's face and tracing his jaw. "This isn't like the physical torture. This is far worse. Arthur Kirkland, welcome to hell."

Arthur listened to Francis's shoes tapping the surface of the hard floor as he sauntered around. Where was he going? "Arthur, relax," Francis said, coming to a halt. "Don't think. Just try and rest your mind. Do not sleep. Simply rest. Everything will be alright… everything… will be… alright…" As Francis's voice grew increasingly slower and softer, Arthur couldn't help but loosen up his muscles and take a deep breath of air, letting it out slowly through his nose. Calm… calmly…

"You are now in a peaceful sleep. Very peaceful." Arthur felt his head drooping slightly. It was nice and dark in the room… "Wake up, Arthur. You're awake. But you don't know where you are. Last you went to sleep you were in your own bed. Now you are in an unfamiliar house." To Arthur's surprise, an image drifted into his mind. Where was he? It was a house, sure… but not like any house he had seen. He guessed it was a mansion like the place he was staying in now. The interior decorations of the house were rather elegant—the sofa had in depth patterns of flowers and swirls, while the rugs had something similar. A fancy gold, silver, and glass chandelier hung from the ceiling above a table with perfectly polished wood, and upon that table was a glass tea set. Where was the image coming from? Did it seem at all… familiar?

"Next," Francis said softly. "You decide to explore. You're almost clueless as to where you are, but you feel as if you've been here before. Even if this could be a stranger's house, curiosity gets the better of you and you start to go down a hallway. Everything, everything is silent except for your footsteps. Outside, it is nighttime. How could this be? When you went to sleep, it was sunset, and you couldn't have gotten any less than ten hours of sleep." Arthur shivered. He was walking down the hall. Picture frames were hung on the walls to his right and left… "As you're walking, it seem like the hall will never end. There isn't even a light switch. Be careful not to bump into anything… Oh, what's this? You brush against the wall, and you hit something. It's a picture in an engraved oak frame. From the window in the living room that you were just previously in, moonlight shines through and provides just enough light to see photograph." Arthur examined the photograph in his hands that he had taken from the wall. An image was appearing on it… "It's a young woman. She isn't smiling. It must be a very old photograph. Lean in for a closer look.

"The woman blinks at you." Arthur let out a muffled yelp and wanted to jump back, but the restraints of the chair held him down. He squirmed futilely for a few moments before forcing himself to calm down, taking a few deep breaths through his nose. This wasn't real… it was just a game that Francis was playing… "You're rather surprised by the movement of the object, aren't you? It's frightening, but it's so easy to convince yourself that it's just your imagination. It's dark and you seem to be alone in this strange house. The human mind is a peculiar thing, yes?" Arthur just barely noticed that Francis had spoke the final word in English, not French. Did he? Did he just imagine it? "Put the picture back, now." Arthur found himself replacing the photo from where he took it off the wall. "It's so dark in the hall. You need a light. If you run your hand over the wall at approximately the height of your chest, you can find a light switch." Arthur found himself walking down the hall, tracing the wall with his hand. After only a few paces, he ran into a light switch. "Turn it on. There is a single light above you, its dull gleam flickering on and off occasionally. There is a door to your left that you hadn't seen before." Arthur turned. Sure enough, a door was in front of him. Something was off about it. "Can you open the door, Arthur? Or is it locked? Try the handle." Arthur reached for the handle. "Wait." His hand stopped. "Something is wrong. A smell hits your nose. What does it smell like? It makes you feel sick." So that's what was off. The room smelled horrible. "What is that smell? Did something die inside of that room? You feel quite a bit nauseated." Arthur crinkled up his nose in disgust. He knew that smell. It was blood. "Open the door now. No matter how frightened you are, it's hard to resist the curiosity that's gnawing like a hungry animal at your mind. Turn the handle. Step inside." Arthur reached out, grasping the cold metal door handle in his hand. He couldn't turn back now. Tensely, he swung open the door, stepping in. The stench of blood was overwhelming. "What's this around your feet, though? Scarlet droplets and thick, coagulated puddles of that liquid surround you, leading to the far side of the room. Next to you is a light switch." Arthur looked at the light switch. A speck of dried blood sat on the switch. "Turn it on." Arthur clicked the switch on, carefully avoiding the blood smear.

Oh, how he wished he hadn't touched the switch.

Arthur's eyes followed the blood trail. Something was at the end… what was it? "Look to where the bloodstains lead. What's over there, Arthur? Is that a shape? It's small, so it's not a human." Arthur's stomach churned. He felt ill. "Lean in for a closer look. You have to know what is the cause of all of the bloodstains." Arthur did so. _Oh, god, oh god, oh god oh god…_

"A small kitten lays on the floor, not moving. Is it sleeping? No, it's not even breathing." Arthur gasped sharply. He could only pray that… "You're remembering your kitten now, aren't you? That little Scottish fold with a brown patch on one side of its white face. But no, this couldn't be your kitten. How could it?" The vampire's voice grew softer. "This one is a Scottish Fold, but one of its ears is ripped off and its throat is gouged out, seemingly by massive claws, tearing, ripping out the little thing's neck." Arthur's eyes stretched wide in horror from behind the blindfold. _Oh god… Iggy…_ "Upon closer examination, this kitten has a brown patch on its face as well. Its green eyes are glazed with death. How familiar this kitten looks." This can't be Iggy, Arthur thought desperately. It can't. He can't be dead.

"You realize that this is your cat. He's dead, killed by some unknown being."

Arthur couldn't help the muffled, half-hearted scream that escaped his lips nor could he stop a tear from falling from his eye. It took him a few moments to force himself to remain calm, ceasing his cries but finding that he was unable to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. Iggy couldn't be dead! He couldn't…! It took all of his willpower to remind himself that this wasn't really happening…

But those images in his head were so real. Everything about it seemed real.

"You pick up the kitten's body. You wonder why it isn't so disgusting to hold the bloody corpse in your hands, but you know that it was because this was your kitten, your precious, one of your closest friends." Arthur could feel the stiff, blood-coated fur of Iggy in his hands as he held him tightly. He _was_ dead. Oh, god. "Who could have done this… what could have done this? You have to find out." He had to find out, he had to. No one would be able to get away unscathed after murdering his Iggy. "You can't take Iggy with you. What if you drop the body? Of course, you have to come back for him later." Arthur set Iggy back down on the floor, uttering a small prayer for him in his mind while bowing his head slightly. God rest his soul. He stood up and turned to the door. "Exit the room. Turn off the light as you go." Arthur flicked off the switch as he silently left the room. He turned to the hall again. Where would he go to now? Wait… at the end of the hall… what…? "Do you see something at the end of the hall?" The amused voice stung Arthur's ears. This wasn't a joke. This was happening. And there was someone waiting at the end of the hall. "Do you see the humanoid figure? Do you see it stumbling forwards like a zombie risen from the dead, hungry for human flesh?" Arthur's eyes widened. Holy shit, it was moving. What the hell was that? Was it human? It was too dark to tell, but it was definitely going straight for him. Arthur wanted to scream, but his voice caught in his throat and he could only let out a strangled, choking noise. Here it comes… "It falls before you. Not even two yards away, it falls down on its front, not moving." Arthur leaned over the figure, tilting his head to one side in what was almost awe. It certainly looked to be human… "You can see the hair color. It's blond. How odd, you think. You know someone very close to you with blond hair, right? Doesn't this remind you of someone?" Arthur's breathing stopped. Was this…? "You see a handle sticking out of its back, and a glint of metal. A knife. There is a knife in this person's back, stabbed directly through. The person is dead. However, the question remains—who has died?" Arthur was horrified. Someone had died, right in front of him, and he was powerless to stop the murder. Who was doing this? And who was he targeting? "Aren't you curious, Arthur? Turn over the body with your foot. You have to know who this is." Arthur took a deep breath before reaching out one leg, hooking his foot underneath the body and turning it over. _Oh… God… Help me…_

Alfred. Alfred F. Jones lay at his feet, eyes closed as if he were only sleeping. His glasses were cracked and shattered beyond repair and most of his body was covered with blood; his own blood. A scream lodged in Arthur's throat. He couldn't even breathe. What was this? Who killed Alfred? Who killed Iggy? Were they still in this house?

"Alfred is dead. He must have suffered a lot, since he could walk towards you while trying to get help. But now he's dead and there is no turning back. Do you think that the killer is in this house? Do you want to try and avenge your cousin and your cat?"

Arthur nodded. He had to know. "Well then, which way will you go now? How about where Alfred came from? See that room over there? Do you think he was stabbed in that room? What if the killer is still there?" Arthur stepped around Alfred's body and hurried into the room. The door was open and he dashed inside. No one would get away with…

"The room is empty. There are no windows or doors. It's just an empty room with a few picture frames on the wall. And look, there are no bloodstains on the floor, even. How odd. Peculiar… frightening. But what's this? A picture frame, hanging on the wall next to the door. What's inside of it? A photograph.

"A photograph of a knife. Take the picture off of the wall for closer examination." Arthur did so, looking closely at it. Was that… blood on the knife? Who would take such a picture? "Are your eyes playing tricks on you? Is the knife moving?"

_Holy shit…_ Arthur stared in terror as the knife moved. Up, forwards, out… out of the frame. "The knife is coming out of the frame, much to your surprise. But your hands are glued to the frame, and you can't seem to let go. The knife…" Arthur yelped as something cold and metal touched the back of his hand. "The knife cuts you. You can't let go of the frame still." Arthur let out a loud shriek as the knife cut into his hand, slowly making a rather deep incision in his flesh. _Make it stop, make it stop!_ Arthur writhed around, trying to let go of the picture frame. He couldn't. The knife was moving agonizingly slow… Blood was dripping down his hand and wrist… it wouldn't stop… he couldn't let go…

"At last, you find the strength to drop the frame." The frame slipped from Arthur's fingers and clattered as it fell to the floor. "Looking down at it, the knife is still. It doesn't look like it had moved since you first saw it, but you know it did. It moved. It cut you. The blood is oozing out of the cut… You have to get out of this house. It's insane. It's haunted. Alfred and Iggy are dead, murdered, and you don't want to meet the same horrible fate as them. Quickly, turn around. Run." Arthur turned. "Someone is standing behind you." Arthur heard footsteps adjusting themselves in front of where he stood. Someone was there, for sure. Human? He couldn't tell. "The figure places a hand on your shoulder." Arthur yelped as he felt a cold hand touch his shoulder, fingers curling around and touching his back. "You can't breathe. You can't move. The figure stares at you." Arthur stared back.

"And you lose everything."

The gag was removed from Arthur's mouth and he took a deep gasp of air gratefully. The question was, why wasn't he dead? Wasn't he killed by that figure? Oh… right… that wasn't real… right? The blood on his arm certainly seemed real enough. The blindfold was removed as well, and the restraints on Arthur's wrists and ankles were released. Arthur stared in front of him. Only a sliver of light came from a little light bulb hanging in the center of the room, and Francis was visible in front of him, smirking. "Alive, mon cher?" he whispered, taking the hand that wasn't covered in dripping blood and helping him to his feet. "I hope that was torturous enough for you. Shame that you had to see Iggy and Alfred dead, though."

"T-t-that…" Arthur struggled to form words as he attempted to wrap his mind around the fact that he was now in reality. "T-that wasn't r-real, right? Alfred and Iggy are still alive? I-I wasn't really cut by the knife?"

Francis chuckled, leading Arthur to the door and opening it up. "Well… Alfred and Iggy are alive, at least," he replied, taking Arthur up the stairs, catching him around the waist as he stumbled and nearly fell. Arthur blushed but didn't say a word. Francis grinned. "I can't say the same about the knife, though."

Arthur glanced down at his hand. Oh, God. There was a long gash on the back of his hand. "Is this real?" he murmured. He was starting to feel a bit dizzy.

"Real as real can be," Francis replied, taking Arthur up to the bathroom and opening up the cabinet to take out some bandages. "Here, stick your hand under the sink for a moment. Wash off the blood."

"B-but… The knife… coming out of the picture…" Arthur turned on the water and stuck his hand under it, completely unprepared for the cold water that ran over it. He shivered and withdrew his hand. Not only was it cold, but it hurt.

"The human mind creates interesting little dilemmas for people, _oui?_" Francis grabbed Arthur's hand again and shoved it under the water. Arthur whimpered but didn't resist too much aside from tightening up his muscles. Francis turned off the water just a few seconds later, taking a rag from a drawer under the counter and wiping up the water droplets and excess blood. He began to wrap the bandages around it, humming calmly. "Though, I do admit, I was partly to blame for putting you in that situation. But tell me, is that worse or better than being whipped as your punishment?"

Arthur looked away as Francis as he murmured, "They're both living hell."

* * *

><p><strong>Hey... it's past 12 and I am super tired... <strong>

**Sorry for the long torture scene and no Ludwig and Feliciano yet... got carried away with the awesome torture :D**

**...orz  
>So tired<br>Anyways enjoy**

**Reviews are love and all that.**

**~G **


	7. Magic and Werewolves

Francis leaned over and kissed Arthur's cheek with a small smile on his face. "Arthur, Gilbert and I are leaving now to get a _bite_ to eat." He chuckled at his own little joke, patting Arthur's head. Arthur just glared up at him, waiting for him to leave already. Just some alone time would be nice… _please, leave me alone now..._

"We'll be back around midnight. _Au revoir, mon lapin!_" Francis smiled and left, following Gilbert out the door. As soon as it shut, Arthur turned and headed upstairs. He would be skipping dinner tonight again. He wasn't that hungry, anyways. No, tonight he would be going through the library, trying to find out how you kill a vampire. He knew that if Francis could put Antonio in that kind of agony and threaten to kill him, then vampires probably could be killed. Although, even if not by the hands of a human armed with a wooden stake and silver bullets, if there was some sort of clever trick or even magic involved, Arthur could probably pull it off. He nodded in acknowledgement to Elizabeta as he hurried up the stairs, only to have her chase after him and grab his arm firmly. Arthur turned around.

"What?" was the only thing he could say to her.

Elizabeta tugged on Arthur's arm, trying to force him back down the stairs, but Arthur refused to budge. "Arthur," she said pleadingly. "You haven't eaten much in the past few days. Your face is frightfully pale and you look exhausted. Please, at least have something for dinner before you go upstairs and seclude yourself…"

Arthur wrenched his arm out of Elizabeta's grip. "I'm fine," he snapped irritably. "I'm going to spend the time that Francis isn't in this house watching my every move in the library trying to find out how I can murder that bloodsucking son of a bitch. So leave me alone."

Elizabeta wasn't convinced. "I won't let you do anything else until you eat something."

"I'll eat later," Arthur insisted.

"I won't accept that."

"_Pity_," Arthur snarled sardonically. "Leave me alone, Eliza."

Elizabeta glared at him before turning on her heel and rushing back down the stairs. Arthur glared after her and then went straight to the library. He made sure to lock the door behind him. No one would interrupt him. He hurried over to the bookshelf from where he last left off. Three books from the end of the shelf…

Two hours later, Arthur was sitting in a chair, leafing through a stack of books. A book on plants. A book on mythical creatures. An erotic novel. Another erotic novel. A third. A fourth. Arthur shivered, placing the peculiar books down along with the others he didn't need beside the chair. Good God, what does Francis read in his spare time? Nothing but explicit porn put into words. He picked up an older book, one that was leather-bound one with what appeared to be a small ruby nestled snuggly in the center. Above it were the words, _Maleficia et Magia_.

_Maleficia et Magia._ Wasn't that Latin? Arthur examined the words more closely. If it was, the title translated to something along the lines of "Sorcery and Magic." Arthur's lips curled up in a victorious grin. This could be just what he was looking for. Without a moment of hesitation, Arthur flung open the book's cover, scanning the text on the first page. To his surprise, it was written in plain English, probably with a feather pen judging from the size and calligraphic appearance of the writing.

_Those who dare to try out the spells of the Black Magic and fail to perform properly may suffer great penalty by the Gods who do not approve of the acts. If adequate caution is not taken while performing the arts of Black Magic, spells may go wrong._

Arthur just turned the page after quickly reading over the warning. If the clock was reading the right time, he only had another hour or so to figure out the best spell or curse to use on Francis before he returned home, and he didn't want to waste it reading any information that already seemed to be common sense. Of course he would be careful in casting a spell. If it backfired, it would be his own damn fault for not paying close enough attention. He studied the next page. A table of contents… how convenient. Arthur's gaze skimmed down the list.

1)Potions of Sorts

2)Spells of Good Luck

3)Curses of Bad Luck

4)Exorcism

5)Ridding of Demons and Creatures Unwanted

6)Obtaining Materials

Arthur quickly flipped through the book, hoping to find the fourth chapter quickly, praying that it would hold the secrets to destroying the evil vampire. As he hastily read through the chapter, he at last found a section near the end of it talking of "Night Creatures." That would include vampires.

_To rid oneself of a vampire or parasitic demon of the sort, use a silver cross cleansed with holy water that has been blessed by a priest. Hold it to the creature and utter, "In the name of God, repent or thy soul shall be tortured in Hell for all of eternity! Begone, Demon!"_

Arthur scratched his head, frustrated. No, no, no! How the hell would he get his hands on holy water, let alone blessed by a priest in this accursed house? He continued reading, hoping for another section with an alternative method.

_If these materials are not available, take a candle of any sort. Light it and place it in a circle drawn in the floor. The circle may or may not be visible. Stand beside the circle—do not, under any circumstance, enter the circle—and say, "In the name of God, repent, *creature's name, if known. If the name is not known then the spell shall not work* or they soul shall be tortured in Hell for all of eternity. Begone, Demon!" The creature must be present or the spall shall not work._

The young man licked his lips in excitement. He could perform this. All he had to do was prepare and make sure that Francis entered the room. He glanced around. Would he need to leave the room to find a candle? To his advantage, on a little table sat a few white candles, which he could use; and beside the candles were a few boxes of matches. Oh, how absolutely perfect. Arthur smirked, snatching one of the candles and a match and taking them over to the center of the library. Now how to make a circle? He didn't want to deface the floor with a marker or anything of the sort… Oh. The circular rug. Arthur set the candle down in the middle of the wine-red rug and struck a match, holding it to the wick for about a second before pulling it away and blowing out the flame. The candle flared up brightly, much to Arthur's delight. _Burn… just burn…_ He stared into the tiny blaze, his eyes lighting up with joy. Finally, he could rid himself of Francis and just live the rest of his life in peace…!

While waiting for midnight, Arthur started to put the books back on the shelves, making sure that there was a clear path from the door to the rug. Once the library was cleaned, he glanced over at the clock while taking a seat behind the candle (while avoiding stepping on the rug!). Only twenty more minutes. Arthur cracked his knuckles and leaned back a little, watching the flame. What a lovely sight.

"Arthur, _mon lapin…_ where are you?" Francis's voice called through the halls. "Could you be in the library~?"

Arthur's head turned to the door sharply. Francis was back already. He leapt to his feet, silently, and hurried over to the door, unlocking it before dashing back to his place behind the candle and picking up the book in his hand, eyes darting over the words. He would have to perform this perfectly. No flaws, no messing up.

The door opened slowly. "Arthur?" Francis murmured, stepping in and closing the door behind him. "What are you doing in here all by yourself?"

"Vampire," Arthur sneered. "This is where your reign of terror ends. 'In the name of God, repent, Francis Bonnefoy, or thy soul shall be tortured in Hell for all of eternity! Begone, Demon!'" Francis's sapphire eyes widened in shock and Arthur smirked at him triumphantly. This was it. This was the end.

The flame blew out.

Arthur stared at it. Was that supposed to happen? He glanced up wildly at Francis, who was simply standing, staring in mild confusion. Francis wasn't dead. He was still there, acting as if nothing had happened. "What…" Arthur averted his gaze from the vampire, turning to the book. "This says nothing of the candle blowing out! What was that? Damn it! What went wrong?"

Francis chuckled and strode over to Arthur, kneeling on the opposite end of the rug. "What's this, Arthur? A failed spell? It looks like the candle was burning for too long. It went out."

Arthur's mouth was slightly agape as he stared dumbfounded at the candle. "That wasn't supposed to happen!" he breathed. "The candle was supposed to keep burning… and the spell was supposed to work… What the hell? Why did it turn out like this?"

The vampire rose to his feet and approached Arthur, leaning over and placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "And pray tell, pet… just what kind of spell were you trying to cast?"

Arthur looked up at him, horrified. Oh God. This couldn't be good…

"Answer me," Francis snapped, suddenly irritated.

How do I answer? How do I answer?

"You were trying to kill me, weren't you?" Arthur's eyes widened. "WEREN'T YOU?" Francis lunged forwards, knocking Arthur to the ground and pinning his hands beside his head. "Your Master, who has been so nice to you this whole time while providing you with a place to stay, a bed to sleep in, food to eat, clothes to wear… YOU TRY AND KILL?" Francis bared his fangs ferociously. "Do you not understand how serious this is, Arthur? You will not get off easily this time. I don't care what I've already done to you today, you will never forget the day that you tried to murder your master, and I'll start with feeding off of you." With those words, Francis plunged his teeth deep into Arthur's neck with no warning of any kind. Arthur uttered a small yelp at the sharp pain, wanting to jerk away from the vampire but knowing full well that if he moved, Francis's teeth would only tear his flesh even more. Arthur bit his lip. Francis was taking a long time… and he was getting dizzy…

Francis ripped his teeth from Arthur's throat and glared down at him. "I think that's enough for now," he growled. "You're getting quite pale and I don't want you to die just yet."

Arthur could only stare up at Francis with blank green eyes. He was tired and dizzy and what he really needed was a good, long sleep. He let his eyelids droop over his dull emerald eyes. So tired… Want some sleep…

"You're tired now, aren't you, pet?" Francis asked, his voice a little softer now. Arthur nodded slightly. A smirk grew on Francis's face, the last thing that Arthur saw before he closed his eyes fully. "Then you can sleep in the basement for tonight. Watch out for the rats, or they'll eat the flesh from your feet. Those little things get hungry when I don't leave part of a corpse down there for them to devour."

* * *

><p>When Arthur awoke, he found no rats around him, and all of his skin seemed to be intact. However, his ankle was chained to the wall and pretty much all of his body was sore from sleeping on the ground for so long. What time was it, anyways? He sat up, scratching the back of his head. Oh, he was still a little tired… Maybe if he got some more sleep…<p>

"Arthur."

The young man looked up. Francis was standing by the stairs, his arms folded across his chest. How had Arthur not heard him come down or even open up the door that led to the floor above him? How spooky… "Arthur," Francis repeated. "Stand."

"Why?" Arthur challenged.

Francis's eyes narrowed. "Why? So I don't have to make you stand up. Now get on your feet before I decide to punish you even more for talking back to me like that."

Arthur grudgingly stood up, stretching out his limbs a bit as he did so. Sleeping on the ground hurt and he wasn't too keen on doing it again. He watched Francis go to the weapons cabinet, which had been moved back to block the iron door again, and open it up to reveal the variety of weapons. He picked out a slender black crop to use, and after he had shut the cabinet, he went over to a corner of the basement and plucked a chain attached to a heavy-looking iron ball. Bringing it over to Arthur, he grabbed the human's wrists and brought them to his front, attaching his wrists to the chain and keeping them weighted down with the iron ball. Next, he slashed his fingernails down Arthur's shirt, tearing a jagged line through the fabric and exposing the chest, and backed a few paces away from the human before speaking again.

"Now, Arthur, tell me why you are here right now."

Arthur smirked. He wasn't in a very good mood and this would be a good way to vent his feelings. "Why are you asking me?" he replied scathingly. "Shouldn't you know?"

Francis let out a low growl in the back of his throat. "I'm not giving you anymore second chances after this. Tell me why you're here."

"Why should I?" Arthur shot back.

_WHAP!_

The black crop suddenly struck Arthur on his left cheek, sending his whole body back a step and his head to one side. Arthur remained in that position for a second, thinking about how much force had been used with just that one blow. His face was almost bleeding—he could feel it. When he gathered himself back together and faced Francis, he was posed with the same question. "Why are you here?"

"Because I tried to kill you," Arthur admitted with a small sigh. The consequences for not responding where great and he wasn't sure if being sardonic was worth the risk.

"Good." Francis lifted his chin up and shot another question at Arthur. "Do you deserve this punishment for trying to kill me?"

"Of course not!" Arthur exclaimed. "It was a failed attempt, and it wouldn't have worked anyways—" Arthur was cut off as he let out a sharp cry of pain, the crop smacking him in the cheek again. Stinging pain exploded through the left side of his face, this time drawing blood for sure; the crimson liquid splattered on his mouth and gave him that metallic taste of blood. He ducked his head down, wiping the bloody injury on the shoulder of his shirt.

"You impudent, foolish human," Francis snarled, his eyes flashing angrily. "Of course you deserve this punishment. You're lucky that I'm letting you get off easy this time. If you had gotten what you actually deserved, you'd be dead not ten minutes after I had finished with you. Now look me in the eye, _pet_, and beg to be whipped by your kind and merciful master."

Arthur glared at Francis. "Whip me," he growled defiantly.

Francis raised the crop. "Louder," he commanded sharply.

"WHIP ME!" Arthur yelled out, his eyes not losing their burning passion for a second. Francis brought the crop down on Arthur's chest, drawing blood with just the first strike.

"You," Francis growled, lashing out with the crop at the word. "Will." _Whap!_ "Not." _Whap!_ "Stand up against." _Whap!_ "ME!" With that, the vampire delivered four more strikes to Arthur's chest, sending specks of blood flying. Arthur let out a hiss of pain through clenched teeth, trying to bear with the agony. "Arthur," Francis said, taking a step forwards and roughly jerking his bloody chin up with his fingers. "Have you had enough?"

Arthur nodded weakly, his whole body tense and his hands balled into tight fists. It was hurting him just to breathe.

Francis slapped Arthur across the face.

There was no warning. He just slapped his right cheek, leaving a bright red mark where his hand had made contact. Arthur stared at him in confusion. "Just don't do anything stupid like that again, alright, pet?" Francis smiled and dropped the bloodied crop to the ground. "You know that I'm only doing this for your own good, Arthur," Francis continued, unchaining the human's wrists and kneeling down to take off the chain from his ankle. "You have to be disciplined if you're going to be irrational and break my rules or stand up against me. Now come on…" Francis grabbed Arthur's hand and started to drag him away. "We need to clean your wounds. We're going into town today, after all."

"T-town? Whatever for?" Arthur was bewildered. What the hell was going on? First Francis was furiously beating him, and now he was cheery and inviting him to go outside of the house for the first time since he had left his own house.

Francis glanced back at Arthur as he led him up the stairs. "You want to get that little cat of yours adopted, right? You can't do that if you just sit around the house all day."

Arthur was completely bemused. "T-thank you," he stammered quietly, not having much else to say.

"Mm." Francis chuckled a little.

* * *

><p>"Wow…" Arthur glanced around him, enjoying all of the bustling crowds and buildings. It had been several days since he had been in town in the early afternoon, and he missed being there and smelling the scent of food cooking in the restaurants nearby, the constant buzz of people chatting with each other… After living in almost isolation for not even a week, he was ready to be out in the fresh air.<p>

Arthur was clinging to Francis's arm, since the vampire didn't want him to run away or get lost, and Iggy was tucked safely in the gentleman's coat pocket, meowing softly at any dogs that passed by.

Francis glanced down at Arthur. "Where do you want to start looking for a new home for your kitten, Arthur? We can go to an animal shelter, or put it in a box on the corner of the street…"

"What? How can you think like that?" Arthur took Iggy out of his coat pocket with his free hand and held him close to his body. "We'll take him to a shelter that doesn't kill them, and then we'll just go right back to the house! But for no reason will we put Iggy out on the street like that! That's cruel!"

Francis chuckled. "I somehow knew you would say that… Oh, look over there." The vampire motioned with his hand to a man with dark brown hair across the street. A few cats were trailing behind him while some others sat on his head and shoulders. A little white one clung to his chest, dangling on the fabric by its claws. "That man looks like he loves cats. Would you like to ask him if he would adopt yours?"

Arthur watched the man for a moment. "Sure, we can give him a try," he agreed. He and Francis hurried across the street. "E-excuse me, sir!" Arthur called out. The man glanced over at them. "H-hello," Arthur stammered shyly. "I couldn't help but notice all of the cats that you have… w-would it trouble you to adopt another one?"

The man tilted his head to the side. "Another…" he whispered. "Another… cat…" He was certainly taking his time thinking about it. However, he ended up shaking his head 'no.' "I don't adopt cats…" he whispered.

Arthur sighed in disappointment. "Alright, sorry to bother you—"

"I don't adopt cats…" he repeated in the same low voice. "…but they… follow me. Cats… like me a lot… and I… like cats… so if your cat wants to… follow me…" The man paused and yawned. "…he can…"

Francis smiled. "There you go, Arthur. We can see if your kitten wants to 'follow' him."

Arthur held out Iggy to the man, who took him and studied him for a moment. "This cat… is very cute," he murmured. "I… like him… Meow… meow… Kitty, meow… meow…"

Arthur glanced up at Francis, who appeared to be trying to cover his laugh with one hand. What was this man doing? To his surprise, Iggy responded, with a few mewls of happiness. He rubbed his head up against the man's hands contently.

"That settles that, then." Francis declared. "Come on, Arthur. We're leaving."

Arthur smiled at the man and pet Iggy on the head, enjoying the feel of the soft kitten fur between his fingers for the last time. "Goodbye, Iggy," he whispered. "I'm sorry for leaving you like this, but I hope you'll be happier here…" Arthur was forced to leave as Francis dragged him away by his wrist, but he managed to call out, "Take good care of Iggy, sir!" The man nodded.

"Arthur." Arthur looked up at Francis, who was returned the gaze. His eyes weren't cold and hard, nor were they cheery. They looked… pitying, sympathetic in a way. What reason would the vampire have to look at him like that? His mouth barely moved as he spoke. "You'll miss your kitten, won't you? Your kitten and your cousin were the closest things that you had to family, right?"

Arthur was surprised by the sudden display of emotion by the vampire. He was usually so cold to him, forcing him to do things that he didn't want to do… where on Earth could this be coming from? "I will miss him," he admitted, looking away, unable to stare into those compassionate sapphire eyes any longer. "He was very important to me, but…" Arthur took a deep breath. "I have to let him go now, and I think that the man who took him will take very good care of him, quite unlike what I could have done considering where I live now and how much you hate him."

Francis clasped his hand over Arthur's shoulder, making him cringe as he thought that he was going to be attacked, but… his hand wasn't fierce. It was… rather gentle. "I know how it feels to lose someone or something precious," he murmured, guiding Arthur across the street and onto the sidewalk. "It takes so long to adjust… and sometimes you may never recover from having your beloved taken away from you."

Arthur glanced up again, watching Francis's face. He knew for sure what he was feeling. Loss. Sadness. Heartbreak. Francis had lost Jeanne when he was young, when they were both young, and he had done nothing wrong. She was murdered, but even after revenge on the killer, was Francis not yet satisfied? Would destroying the problem not heal the wounds? As he pondered this, he felt Francis's hands roughly shove him to the side very suddenly and it startled him. "H-hey—"

"Look out," Francis growled, stepping in front of Arthur and staring at something warily. His expression had changed almost completely. "Stay behind me and do not move. They're coming this way, and you're bound to be their first target. Watch your back, too. There might be more of them."

"More of them? Of what? What's going on?" Arthur was bewildered.

Francis glanced from side to side, taking a step back and forcing Arthur to do so as well. "Stay right where you are, Arthur," he mumbled. "I'll make sure that you're protected."

"From what?"

"Silence." Arthur pressed his lips together instantly. There was no arguing with that tone of voice that Francis spat out. "_Merde!_ One of them disappeared! The taller one is coming this way…"

Arthur bit back his question of who was coming, but then again, he didn't really want to know. What was coming, a monster? A demon? Another vampire?

"Good day to you," Francis said coldly to whoever had come up to them. Arthur peeked out from behind Francis's back to stare up, wide-eyed, at the very tall and muscular blond man standing before him. He had piercing sky-blue eyes and his blond hair was slicked back, and something about his face seemed almost dog-like, including the way that his nose was twitching.

"The same to you," the man growled. Literally, growled. His voice was low and gruff and grinded against his throat like two stones rubbing against each other, and also had a strong German accent. "It's been a while since I've seen you… but you appear to have some new property this time. A human, right?"

"_Oui,_" Francis confirmed, not even sparing a glance to Arthur. He kept his glare focused directly on the man. "I got him recently, and he's rather fragile. So, if you don't mind, we'll be on our way…"

The man tilted his head up, his mouth forming a sneering grin. "Is that so?"

"_Oui._ Please step out of my way."

"I don't think so." The tall man chuckled. "I haven't seen you in such a long time, Bonnefoy, so why don't we have a conversation while you're still in town. You hardly ever come around here anymore."

Arthur kept himself behind Francis, wishing that he could just disappear. Who was that man, and how did he know Francis?

Suddenly, a hand reached out from the crowds around them and grabbed Arthur's arm, pulling him out from behind Francis and into the open. He cried out as his arm was twisted up behind his back rather painfully, but his captor didn't persist to hurt him. Instead, they seemed intent on only keeping him in place. The man that was conversing with Francis glanced over, and then strode up to Arthur. Francis bared his teeth and poised his body to strike, only to find that Arthur's captor twisted his arm even harder, earning another exclamation of agony from the human. Francis froze on the spot, then relaxed his muscles, glaring at the man. "What do you plan on doing, Ludwig?"

Ludwig, the tall blond man, only continued up to Arthur and picked up his free hand, bringing it up to his face and sniffing it. He let it fall limply, observed it, and then began to walk around him, studying his body while ignoring the odd stares that were given by passersby's. At last, he looked up at Francis. "What have you been doing to this human?" he growled. "Your scent is all over him— _all over_ him, and his skin is as pale as a sheet. He also looks overly exhausted; note the bags under his eyes, and he reeks of blood despite lacking most of his. Now, can you honestly explain all of this to me, Francis?"

Francis kept his gaze level and cool as he replied calmly. "Arthur is my pet." Arthur cringed and hoped that no one he knew was around him as the vampire spoke. "I take his blood, so what? He's mine and I do what I please with him. If he objects then he is disciplined firmly. Does that explain it well enough for you? Give him back to me."

"Francis," Ludwig snarled angrily. "This human has been abused. You should know when to stop drinking his blood. I've seen humans captured by vampires like this before, and they've looked perfectly healthy. Arthur is ill and you should not deserve to have him. I would like to request that you kill him as soon as possible. It is your choice whether he becomes a vampire or not, but as long as he has this tortured life, I cannot stand for it. Do what is best for him and kill him. Otherwise, I'll take him in and make him a werewolf like us."

The vampire stood his ground. "I refuse to comply to any of your wishes, Weilschmidt. Arthur is my human and I wouldn't have him any other way. He will recover soon."

"He could die in just a few days," argued Ludwig insistently. "Do him mercy and kill him."

"But I don't want to die," Arthur whispered, catching the attention of the vampire and the werewolf. He swallowed. "I don't want to be a vampire and I don't want to be a werewolf."

Ludwig's head fell to the side and from his lips escaped a small sigh. "Listen to me. You're in a terrible condition and your vampire treats you poorly. You would be better off dead, granted a painless death than dying of a lack of blood and sleep."

"Hey!" A cheerful voice came from behind Arthur, startling him. It was from whoever was holding his arm in place so he wouldn't run away. "It would be so amazing if Arthur was a werewolf with us! He would like it, because I can make him pasta, and you can give him beer, Ludwig, and then we can be together forever and ever, because werewolves live for a really, really, REALLY long time! Vee~!"

"Feliciano," Ludwig sighed. "If he doesn't want to be a werewolf, we can't make him. He's probably going to die instead."

"That's no fun," Feliciano complained. "I wanted someone new to play with. Oh well~!"

Francis narrowed his eyes at Ludwig. "Give me my human back now," he demanded. "If I kill him, it's my choice when and where to do it, right? I won't kill him in front of all of these people."

Ludwig nodded. "Release him, Feli."

When the person behind him let go of his arm, Arthur stumbled forwards right into Francis's arms. The vampire wrapped his hands around the human's back and embraced him tightly in a very protective manner. Arthur turned his head to get a good look at his ex-captor. He was shocked.

The werewolf appeared to be a small man with copper colored hair and half-closed eyes. He wore a bright smile on his young face, and a haywire curl stuck out of his hair. He was all too familiar. "You look like Lovino!" Arthur gasped before he had time to think about what he was saying. But it was true; he had the same type of hair, face, build, and Italian accent.

"Ve~?" Feliciano's face brightened. "Oh, do you know Lovino Vargas? He's my big brother! He disappeared a while ago before Ludwig found me and turned me into a werewolf, and I had no idea at all where he went!" He giggled like a child. "Can you take me to Lovino? You know where he lives, right? Please, please take me there! I haven't seen him in years!"

"Yes, actually, Lovino lives with us." Arthur glanced up at Francis. "M-Master," he said softly to insure that no one around them would hear him address Francis that way. "Is it all right if we take these two up to the mansion? Feliciano would be delighted to see his brother."

"There is no way in hell," Francis growled. "That I would invite these filthy curs into my house."

"Francis!" Arthur exclaimed. "Please, why can't…" He broke off in mid-sentence. "…I'm sorry, Master," he whispered. "I forgot…"

Francis sighed softly. "Your punishment awaits you later. Arthur, you must remember what you call me by. And you know what? I'll allow them to visit Lovino, but if they try and lay a hand on you, they will be dead in an instant."

"Yes, Master. Thank you." Arthur turned to Feliciano. "You can come to visit Lovino on Francis's conditions."

Ludwig nodded. "Thank you very much, Francis."

Francis gave the werewolves both curt nods before turning away. "Shall we go? Arthur, take my hand and hold it for the rest of the way up to the house."

"Yes, Master." Arthur clasped his hand in Francis's and held it tightly. His skin was ice-cold and uninviting to the touch, but it seemed like he wanted to hold onto it forever. There were to creatures that were almost entirely new to him following close behind, and he didn't want to be caught by them and killed or turned into a werewolf himself.

Reaching the house, Francis knocked on the door. "We're back, and we have some guests. Please open up."

Elizabeta pulled open the door, her face brightening as she saw Arthur. "Hello! Welcome back, Francis, Arthur." She glanced at Feliciano and Ludwig. "And you two," she said, giving a small curtsey and lifting up her green and white dress. "It's nice to meet you, my name is Elizabeta."

Ludwig shook her hand. "Pleasure to meet you too, miss," he said gruffly. Feliciano smiled and waved at her before bounding into the mansion after Ludwig and the others. Elizabeta closed the door.

"Lovino~!" Francis called out, cupping his hand over his mouth. "You have someone who wants to see you down here~!" His voice echoed through the enormous house, and soon, the sound of footsteps could be heard dashing across the hallway and down the stairs. Lovino came running down, panting.

"Yeah? What is it you want—" Lovino stared at Feliciano in disbelief. He was silent for what seemed like hours. "…Feliciano?"

* * *

><p><strong>Crappy place to leave off is crappy... D:<br>****And to those of you who said not to add werewolves because it would make the story like Twilight...**

**)**

**Problem?**

**~  
>So, uh, here's the next chapter, yup... in a bit, Arthur may attempt to cook... pray he doesn't burn the house down.<br>Oh, and I totally finished this thing two days before I published it. I had no Internetz... so that makes it OK. The good news is, I'm almost done with Chapter 8.**

**Enjoy! Reviews are amazing and I love them very much, all of your support is just about Prussia-awesome to me. **

**~G**


	8. Gilbert's shock and Shattered Glass

"Vee~!" Feliciano grinned. "Lovino! You're alive!"

Lovino ran forwards at full speed, crashing into Feliciano and embracing him tightly. "Oh God, Feli, of course I'm alive! You stupid bastard! I haven't seen you in years! Have you been okay? Who is this bastard that you're with? You smell like a wet dog, too!"

"I'm a werewolf!"

Lovino gaped. "What?"

Feliciano giggled, and as if by magic, two fuzzy brown wolf-like ears sprung from his scalp. A tail came out from under his shirt, too, and he pranced around, his hands in the air like paws. "I'm a werewolf, Lovino! It's super fun because dog food doesn't taste bad anymore, but you know that I still prefer pasta! And guess what? I can run really fast and I smell things really well too! See, I can smell tomatoes and vampire scent on you right now! And Arthur smells like blood because he's been tortured, and Elizabeta smells like food, so I know that she's been in the kitchen, and Francis smells like those dead things that you find on the side of the road!" He beamed. Francis growled softly.

Arthur watched the two, a small smile on his face. It must have been so nice to be reunited with a family member. Suddenly, he missed Alfred… Despite how obnoxious he was, he was still family. Just like how Lovino was always swearing and Feliciano seemed like a bit of an airhead, oblivious to everything around him, they still loved each other and were thrilled to be reunited after a few years of separation. He stood there, thinking for a moment before Francis's and Ludwig's conversation distracted him.

"You're too harsh on the human," Ludwig said softly, probably so that Feliciano wouldn't hear. "The way that you make him call you 'Master' all the time and punish him if he doesn't do so is sickening."

"I do what I please with my pet," Francis replied coolly.

"You're literally killing him, and he's probably scarred emotionally, too."

"So what?" Francis smirked and cocked his head. "You've got nothing to do with it, dog."

Ludwig narrowed his eyes. "Arthur," he called. "Please come over here for a moment."

Arthur walked over apprehensively, feeling Francis's gaze burning into his skin. If Francis didn't object, it was okay for him to do what Ludwig said, right? He stood in front of the tall Germany werewolf, holding his head up high but being forced to hide his trembling hands behind his back. "Yes, sir?"

"Show me were you have been injured through your stay here. I can already see the bandages on your face; there's no need to mention those."

Arthur glanced at Francis. He nodded curtly. Do what he says. Hands still trembling, Arthur thought about it for a moment, and then slowly removed his shirt, taking his time with each button as they constantly slipped out of his fingers. He took it off all the way, revealing his bandaged chest. "Is this what you wanted to see, sir?"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "Yes… almost. Here, let's sit down on the couch so we can get more comfortable while I look at those wounds."

The three took a seat on the leather couch together, where Francis said, "Arthur, take off those bandages so Ludwig can see."

"Idiot!" Ludwig snapped. "It's difficult to take off bandages by yourself! Here, I'll do it!" He started to peel away the white, taped down cloth strips, making Arthur let out a sharp hiss of pain as the sticky substance was torn from his flesh. "It's okay, Arthur, one more," Ludwig said, taking off the last one. "There… Oh, good, none of them are bleeding. And…" Ludwig reached up and brushed his hand over the rose-shaped scar on his chest. "What is this?"

"That's my mark," Francis said proudly. "It's to show that he belongs to me and no one else can touch him."

Ludwig glowered at him. "That's cruel. This scar will never fade, you know. If you were to, say, _die_, he would still have this to remind him of your treacherous ways for the rest of his life."

"Of course he will," Francis retorted. "He's my pet. A pet should have some form of identification with them, like a phone number of its master on its collar. Arthur should be no exception… oui?"

Ludwig continued to study Arthur's chest. "What did you beat him with here?"

"A crop."

"A crop…" Ludwig repeated, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "What else have you used to torture him?"

Francis shrugged. "I haven't varied much, but I've used a knife, psychological torture, and… oh! I used the Cat o' Nine Tails."

"_That…_" Ludwig snarled. "You used such an instrument on this human?"

"He's tougher than he looks."

"So what? He's still a human! Fragile, easily breakable, and now look at him! He's going to die very soon!"

_Oh God… Arthur closed his eyes and shivered. I don't want to die yet…_

"Arthur hasn't been eating much, either." Elizabeta walked over, her hands crossed in front of her body. "I'm sorry for listening in on your conversation, but… I think he's worse than you think. I don't think he drinks much liquid, for that matter." Arthur shot her a glance—she wasn't doing much to drive the unwanted attention away from him was he?

Ludwig glared at Francis. "So you've been depriving him of food and water as well?"

Francis raised his hands in the air in mock surrender, a little smirk on his face. "Now what makes you think that? Arthur has absolute control over what he eats and drinks. I don't interfere with that… If you want to know why he doesn't eat much, ask him, not me."

Ludwig turned to Arthur. "Is it true that you don't eat or drink much, Arthur?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, sir… I sometimes forget to eat."

"_Sometimes,_" Ludwig repeated. "Only sometimes, is that right?"

"Yes, sir."

"What I don't get," Francis said coldly, standing up and staring at Ludwig intently. "Is why you are so concerned with my human's health. He's not yours. If we hadn't run into each other on the street, then you wouldn't have known he even existed."

Ludwig picked up the bandages that he had left on the couch and started to carefully attach them back onto Arthur's injuries. "I'll have you know, I used to be in the military. I was very worried over my comrades' health, and nowadays I don't want anyone to get sick or injured like they did. Especially under your care, Francis, when you seem so quick to punish them for minor faults."

"Mm." Francis chuckled. "It just seems that way to you since you're always so friendly and caring to that little Feliciano. You've got something going on with him, don't you? You act so close to him like he's your lover."

"So what if he is?" Ludwig growled. "It means nothing to you, vampire."

Francis smirked. "Pity if he were to die."

Ludwig rose to his feet suddenly, his face red with anger; and from his blond hair popped out two pointed ears, flattened against his head as his lips curled up in a fierce snarl at Francis. "Are you threatening Feliciano?" he demanded.

"Oh…" Arthur jumped up too, surprising even himself by standing in front of Francis and looking up at Ludwig with pleading green eyes. "Please don't fight…!

Ludwig's wolf ears slowly began to rise again, and he sighed softly. "Very well. I suppose that it would be impolite to fight my host in his own house. Forgive me, Francis."

"Forgiven," Francis said mockingly. "On the condition that you leave right now and never return."

Arthur whipped his head around and stared at Francis, while Ludwig began to growl at him again. "M-Master! Ludwig and Feliciano should be welcome here at any time! Feliciano is Lovino's brother, after all, and it would be wrong to separate them!"

Francis smirked coolly. "I don't care about that," he said snidely. "Feliciano may be rather adorable for a filthy wolf, and his brother may be here, but I'm not a fan of dogs or cats in my house. I'm going to have to ask you, Ludwig, to take your little puppy outside and never come back."

Ludwig glowered at Francis. "Very well then, we will leave. But if Arthur leaves you and wishes to stay with us, I won't deny him proper protection from the likes of you, vampire."

Francis only snickered. "Arthur won't be leaving this house any time soon. Now get out of here, dog."

"Feliciano!" Ludwig called throughout the house, his deep voice echoing through the empty halls. "I don't know where Lovino took you, but we're leaving right now! Say your farewells and get down here as soon as you can!"

Feliciano hurried over the stairs, Lovino following close behind. The Italian werewolf stood at the top of the staircase, staring down at Ludwig. "Are we leaving already? Can we come back? Lovino is really fun! Vee~!"

Ludwig shook his head. "No, we can't come back. Say goodbye to your brother, Arthur, and Elizabeta."

"We're not coming back?"

"No."

Feliciano pouted. "Aw… I'll miss you, Lovino~!" He turned around and embraced his brother tightly, looking like he was squeezing the life out of him before the darker-haired brother reached up and hugged him back. After a few seconds, they pulled away, tears clearly visible in both of their eyes. "I'll see you around, okay? Maybe you can come and visit me~!"

"Stupid bastard…" Lovino muttered, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. "Just don't… don't forget to keep in contact, okay? Write me letters, or something— Oh shit, I'm fucking crying…" He sniffled. "I'm fucking crying, damn it! This is to emotional! Feliciano, just go! Hurry up so I don't grab onto your leg and scream for you not to leave…" He covered his face with his arm and dashed away as quickly as his legs would carry him.

Feliciano smiled as he took the stairs two at a time, but stumbled over his own feet and fell flat on his face at the bottom. He looked up, his face bright red but the smile held on it. "Bye, Arthur, you would be a fun werewolf! Come and join us any time! And bye, Elizabeta! Thank you for being nice! And bye, Fran—"

"Let's go." Ludwig grabbed Feliciano's wrist and as he started to drag him down the door, footsteps could be heard through the house.

"WAIT JUST A GOD DAMN MINUTE THERE!" an incredibly loud and obnoxious voice screamed.

"Oh, Lord…" Elizabeta sighed. "Gilbert is coming."

"Gilbert?" Ludwig glanced up, hope dancing in his blue eyes, but all excitement faded from his face as he shook his head. "That was my brother's name… but he's…"

Gilbert, wearing only a pair of jeans, came barreling down the stairs at full speed. His little bird sat on his shoulder, chirping happily. "Why the fuck didn't anyone tell me that we had visitors? Visitors are fucking awesome! Like, me-awesome! Do you know how awesome that is?" he asked to no one in particular.

Arthur glanced to Ludwig, who was staring open-mouthed at the albino vampire. No sound came from him. Gilbert glanced over at him, his crimson eyes stretching as wide as dinner plates. "…Ludwig?"

"Gilbert..." Ludwig whispered. "Is… is that you?"

Gilbert cocked his head to the side, a confused grin plastered on his face. "Luddy? 's that you?" He started forwards, appearing to be trying to get a closer look at the man. "Ludwig! That is you! The fuck are you doing here? _Alive?_ When you should have died, like, a hundred million fucking years ago! Jesus Christ, Ludwig!" Gilbert ran up to Ludwig, tightly squeezing his middle, his eyes shut and a wide grin on his face. Ludwig still looked shocked, but he reached up one hand to pat his brother on the back comfortingly. Arthur realized after a moment that there were tears welling up in his eyes.

Gilbert pulled back and grinned. He was crying, too. "Ludwig, man, it's been so long… I seriously thought that you would have died by now… Ah, shit, I'm crying…"

Ludwig looked at the ground. He was on the brink of breaking down and sobbing. "I thought that… that you were dead too, _bruder,_" he said softly. "You disappeared and… and…" His lower lip trembled. "Oh, _mein Gott…_"

Arthur smiled. He couldn't really help it. It was so nice how after so many years, these two found each other again, almost by coincidence. And on the same day that the Italian twins had met up at last, too.

Francis sighed in exasperation, more loudly than necessary. "Ludwig, I thought that you and your little puppy dog were leaving."

Ludwig looked up at Francis; tears were still in his eyes but he was glaring furiously. "This is my brother, Francis. I won't just leave him.

Francis's lips curled up in a sneering grin. "You ought to stick to what you say, you cur."

"Ve!" Feliciano squeaked from behind Ludwig, peering out at Francis. "Don't be mean to Ludwig! He's a nice person! And I don't like fighting, ve… please don't fight!"

Ludwig nodded, stepping away from his brother. "Yes… Let's not fight. Feliciano, Francis is right. We really should go now."

"WHAT." Gilbert gaped at Ludwig. "I just found you after how many years! You're just gonna leave me, like that?"

Ludwig shrugged. He acted like he didn't care much, but his eyes betrayed his sadness. "Gilbert, I promise that I'll write to you. I'll send you letters, and you can send me some back. Feli, let's go." Abruptly, Ludwig turned, slamming the door behind him.

Gilbert stared at the door blankly for a few seconds before letting out a long stream of German obscenities and storming away.

Elizabeta smiled. "I like Feliciano. He's such a cute boy."

"He's a filthy dog," Francis muttered from the couch. He stood up and grabbed Arthur's shoulder roughly. "Arthur, come with me. We're going down to the basement right now. Don't bother objecting."

Swallowing nervously, Arthur followed Francis to the basement door, casting a glance at Elizabeta that was returned with a pitying gaze, before entering the staircase leading down to his fate. Francis went right over to the weapons cabinet, removing it from its place on the wall and opening up the secret iron door. "In," he instructed sharply. Arthur hurried inside, waiting for Francis to come in with a strip of black cloth clutched between the fingers of his pale hand. The vampire motioned to the chair that sat in the middle of the room, and Arthur took a seat in it quickly. The first thing that Francis did was tie the cloth around his eyes, and next he went to work on securing his wrists and ankles with the leather straps. However, this time, instead of gagging him, he took another leather strap that seemed to be hidden in the back of the chair and started to bring it around Arthur's neck. The human let out a small cry and tried to jerk away, completely uncomfortable with the thought of having something putting pressure on and restraining his neck, but once Francis had started to growl a soft warning, he instantly stopped moving and let the restraint slip around his throat.

Francis stood up. "Arthur, in town, you referred to me as Francis instead of Master. Any particular reason for that, or were you just being ignorant?" He leaned in to Arthur's face, his warm breath stirring Arthur's hair. The human fought the urge to flinch or tell him to back off. He just had to relax so that his temper wouldn't get the better of him and he wouldn't lash out with an insult.

"I simply forgot, Master," Arthur replied quietly.

"Calling me 'Master' should be the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of me," Francis growled, taking Arthur's chin in his hand and squeezing it slightly. Oh, how Arthur hated to be deprived of one of his senses. Not being able to see was awful since he didn't know what Francis was going to do next, nor could he even predict.

Arthur remained still. "Yes, Master. I understand that, Master."

"Will it happen again?"

"No, Master."

Francis began to pace around Arthur. Oh, no. This couldn't be good. His footsteps echoed eerily on the concrete floor. "Now, pet, can you tell me why you chose not to stand up for me when Ludwig was accusing me of abusing you? I am your Master, you are my property, and you should be on _my_ side. Explain."

Arthur swallowed. Was the restraint on his neck getting tighter or was it just his imagination? "I was only going along with the truth, Master," he replied just as quietly as before. "It wasn't an all-out battle or even a fight, so I didn't think that there would be 'taking sides' in the ordeal. I just thought that Ludwig was correct in saying—" Arthur yelped like a wounded dog as Francis kicked his shin. Hard.

"_Fuck_ what he was saying," Francis said sharply. "You will take my side next time, is that understood? As far as that fight was concerned, you should have been perfectly healthy and I was not beating you as much as Ludwig had said. Correct?"

"Yes, Master," Arthur said weakly. A throbbing pain was growing in his leg.

"Then this won't happen again?" Francis's voice was a little higher-pitched and had a light tone of amusement to it as if this were just a funny joke. "Promise me, pet, that this will never happen again."

"Yes, Master, I promise." Ouch, now Arthur had a headache. He was starting to feel a bit dizzy already.

Francis patted Arthur's shoulder. "Good boy. Do you think I should release you now or do you think that you need a bit more punishment?"

Was Francis saying something? Arthur closed his eyes. All he heard was a random assortment of words… they didn't make much sense… and he was so dizzy right now…

"Arthur?" Francis sounded a little concerned, but that was the last thing that Arthur heard.

When Arthur woke up again, he was lying on the bed with the covers pulled over his body. Thankfully, he was still wearing his clothes, but to him, that wasn't really important. What had happened to him? Why on Earth was he lying in the bed? He sat up and looked around him, surprised to find Francis and Elizabeta beside him, the young woman looking very concerned. "Are you feeling well enough to eat something, Arthur? Francis said that you fell unconscious downstairs…" She picked up a plate from the bedside table that held a sandwich and handed it to him, but he shook his head.

"I've told you, I'm not that hungry…" Arthur said quietly.

Francis glared at Arthur. What was he so mad about? "Pet, if you don't eat right now, I'll make sure that you'll be unable to walk for the next two weeks. It won't be pleasant."

Arthur quickly took the sandwich from the plate and nodded a quick thanks to Elizabeta before starting to eat it. The more he ate, the more his hunger seemed to grow. Francis smiled. "There you go, Arthur," Francis said. "And after that, I want you to drink some water. Understood?"

"Yes, Master," Arthur said, swallowing the last of the sandwich. Elizabeta handed him a glass of water, the contents of which were gone in just a few seconds. Francis was staring at him intently. Arthur was uncomfortable with this, but he said nothing. Thankfully, Francis broke the silence; but to Arthur, it wasn't anything to be thankful about.

"Elizabeta, do me a favor, and leave? I want to be… alone with _mon petit lapin_." Francis smiled up at the young woman, who nodded and started to head out.

"Bye, Arthur…" she called, opening the door and closing it behind her as she left.

Arthur was left in the same room, alone, with Francis.

Oh, God.

"Arthur," Francis said, leaning in close to the human. Arthur chose not to look at him—instead, he stared straight ahead and didn't acknowledge him. The vampire continued. "Arthur, when you fell unconscious, do you have any idea at all just how worried I was?" Arthur turned his head to face Francis at this. Francis actually sounded sincerely concerned about him. But wasn't he the one that had tortured him and kept him as a human pet this whole time? "Arthur, please…" Francis blinked up at Arthur, sapphire eyes wide. "I don't want you to pass out from hunger or thirst ever again, please. It gave me such a fright when you stopped responding… I do want you to be eating more and staying healthy. If you die, there's no replacing you."

Arthur blinked. Replacing him? He wasn't a toy. But that wasn't the most important thing on the man's mind. He was mostly wondering why Francis was acting like a worried mother rather than the sadistic vampire that he was. In fact, it was during one of their torture sessions that Arthur had passed out, so why was Francis acting this way?

"You're also suffering from a lack of blood," Francis continued, standing up and taking a seat on Arthur's bed. "Your fever… when you had that, it went away very quickly, but if we don't focus on getting you well soon, it can and most likely will come back. I want you to be drinking lots of liquids, alright, Arthur?"

Arthur didn't reply. He just stared at Francis like he had just said he was going to swallow a frog. Francis tilted his head to the side in curiosity. He reached out and placed the back of his hand on Arthur's forehead. "Are you already sick again_, mon cher?_" he asked quietly. Arthur shook his head, shrinking back from the vampire's touch.

"I-I'm fine," he stammered in response, his face flushing. He looked away. "I just don't get… why you're acting like that."

"Acting like what, pet?" Francis leaned in, a small smile on his face. It wasn't a smirk, or a grin… it was a soft, warm smile.

Arthur shifted around in the bed uncomfortably. Would Francis be mad at him for pointing this out? "You know… like, you care about me."

"I do care about you." Francis seemed to be acting so innocent. "You're my pet and therefore my responsibility. I don't want to see you hurt."

Arthur wasn't convinced in the least. He folded his arms and glowered at Francis. "Says the one who tortures me almost every day," he scoffed.

Francis didn't seem taken aback by Arthur's comment. He just held the smile on his face. It was starting to get a little creepy. "Arthur, _mon cher_, you should know that I feel the need for firm discipline when you do something foolish or against my rules. It's not like I'm torturing you without reason."

"Even when you tried to make me call you 'Master' the correct tone of voice by beating the life out of me with that rather unpleasant device you call a whip?" Arthur's tone of voice was sardonic now. Would that get Francis to react to his words? As much as he despised being punished for his incompetence, it was disturbing how the vampire seemed too cheerful like nothing bad had ever happened to the human.

"I just didn't like the tone of your voice." Francis's response was almost too simple. "But it seems like I can't just beat that out of you."

"Well, you should have realized that from the start," Arthur snapped. He realized too late that his retort was a bit too sharp as Francis narrowed his sapphire eyes at him.

The vampire leaned over Arthur, his hands on the blanket by his hips. Arthur felt his breath, hot and moist, stirring his blond hair. "Arthur," he growled softly, his voice not yet malicious but on its way there. "I may be cutting you a break this time, but I have a very short temper. If you test me like that again, there's no guarantee if I will hold back or not. Do you understand me?"

Arthur nodded. "…Yes, Master," he said quietly.

Francis straightened up, the smile coming back to his face. "Bon!" he exclaimed, backing away from Arthur and heading for the doorway. "I'll leave you be for now. Antonio and Gilbert and I have scheduled a small meeting in the library, and if you sneak in, I might just have to tear off one of your legs so I can hear your awkward footsteps when you walk down the hall before you enter. Understood? _Oui?_ Good."

Arthur stared at the door as Francis closed it behind him. There was no way that he would be going into the library today.

The young man filled up his glass with water from the sink for the third time, drinking it all in just a few gulps. He leaned up against the counter once he was finished, sighing slightly. It had been a while since he had last had some water, which he had only realized when he woke up in the bed after being unconscious and Elizabeta had given him some. He glanced over to the pantry. He was hungry, too…

Arthur opened up the cupboard to reveal all sorts of food—canned fruit and soups, crackers, sweets, and bread. He took out a can of pears over to the counter, opening it up. He then proceeded to pour it into a small ceramic bowl, also taking a fork out of a drawer (after a few minutes of searching for the right drawer) and sticking it in the bowl. Since he hadn't been eating for a while, he figured that he may as well eat as much as he could.

As he leaned up against the granite counter, munching on the sliced, syrupy pears in silence, he wondered what Francis and the other vampires could be meeting about in the library. Aside from eating, there didn't seem to be much else to do in the house besides reading some books in the library. Oh, well.

Arthur glanced to the doorway where he saw a bit of movement. Elizabeta walked in, a smile on her face. Her light brown hair was tied back in a ponytail that swished from side to side when she walked, and she wore a loose-fitting V-neck long-sleeved shirt and a knee-length skirt. "Hi, Arthur!" she chirped, coming right up to him and planting a sweet kiss on his cheek. The gentleman's face flushed, and he tilted his body away from Elizabeta a bit as he examined her. She was still smiling cheerfully. Arthur had to admit, she was gorgeous like that, but he knew better than to accept her affection. Francis would find out.

"Elizabeta," Arthur began carefully. He didn't want to upset her, nor did he want her to get the idea that she could do whatever she wanted without having to face the consequences. "You know that Francis doesn't want us to be together. We can't do this."

Elizabeta only shrugged with her jade eyes aglow. "It's okay. The vampires are in the library. They won't catch us." She giggled and smiled up at Arthur. She was gorgeous. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds under intense light and her hair waved like gentle ocean currents. Arthur wanted her.

"We shouldn't do this," Arthur insisted, half to himself rather than Elizabeta. He couldn't have her. Not with Francis watching him the way he did. "Francis will catch us. No matter what, he'll catch us. It doesn't matter if he doesn't hear us or see us or even smell us, for God's sake. He can tell when we're together…" Arthur shivered involuntarily as he remembered Francis's threats when he found out that he had kissed Elizabeta for the second time during his stay at this house. He was also reminded of Francis's harsh words about Elizabeta, calling her filthy names like "slut" and "whore." He didn't want to remember those, not in the least.

"Arthur?" Elizabeta leaned in closer to Arthur, peering up at him with wide eyes. "Are you okay? You look frightened."

Arthur shook himself slightly, attempting to rid himself of any unwanted memories. "I am fine," he said with a slight forced smile that disappeared with his next words. "But please, Ms. Eliza… Understand that we can't love each other."

Elizabeta looked up questioningly at the man. "Say we were to escape the mansion. Would you be with me then?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. Elizabeta was married to Roderich; yet another reason to deny her affection. "Elizabeta, you're married to Roderich. You'd be returning to Austria to be with him again, correct?"

"But Arthur…" Elizabeta moaned, almost whining like a child. "I love you."

"Who do you love?" Arthur demanded suddenly, his voice coming out of his mouth sharper than he expected it to. But he didn't correct his tone. It didn't matter. He needed to know where the woman's heart was. "Tell me, Elizabeta. I want to know who you belong with. Me, Roderich, or Gilbert?"

Elizabeta stared into Arthur's emerald eyes. She looked like a rabbit that had lost its way through the forest. "I…" she began, raising a hand to her mouth and biting her fingers nervously. "I… I love Roderich," she started out, her shoulders twitching in discomfort. "B-but I also… love you… And Gilbert can actually be nice once you get to know him…"

"Choose," Arthur said harshly, taking a step forwards. He had never felt himself feel so intimidating to anyone before, and he wasn't sure that he liked the feeling. He had always been such a gentleman, polite, mild-tempered and sensible. But now that he was acting controlling, demanding of someone, he longed for the time when he never snapped at anyone. Nevertheless, he had to make sure that Elizabeta knew where she was going in life. She couldn't just be promiscuous and sleep with every man that she met.

Elizabeta backed away a few paces, eyes still wide. "I-I…" she stammered, unable to find the right words. "I… I can't…"

Arthur stormed forwards a few more paces, glaring at Elizabeta. Where this awful temper of his was coming from, he never knew. "If you don't choose," he said icily. "Then you can be a slut all of your life."

Elizabeta stared at him. Her eyes were cracked like glass, broken in a thousand glass shards. Arthur felt like his heart had been pierced with those shards, too. He couldn't tell if the expression on her face was shock, anger, sadness, horror, or a mixture of all of those. But he did know that when she dashed from the room, whipping her wavy brown hair around to hide her face, he knew that he hadn't done anything good. She was crying. She was upset.

Arthur didn't even know if he could fix it. How could he repair her broken heart—and his?

* * *

><p><strong>Now watch as you take in this sappy, cheesy chapter end as I spoon-feed it to you. I seriously apologize for making it like that. So lame...<strong>

**There's a spider on my ceiling. I think it watches me while I sleep. Thinking about making my sister either kill it or capture it for further examination. (It leaves spiderwebs on my walls and I don't like that very much...)**

**Anyways, some more torture in the next chapter, I hope. Decided not to add parts where Arthur cooks and burns the house down. Too much effort... orz. Instead you shall have some more torture... please do not cry... It makes me feel bad. I got a head start though, on chapter nine, because History and Math were boring. :D**

**Enjoy~**  
><strong>Reviews make my tiny female heart skip a beat with joy~ You guys are the best!<strong>

**~G**

**Staring at the spider. Making sure that it doesn't move...**


	9. Listening In and Gilbert's Pain

Arthur slowly made his way to the bedroom that he and Francis shared, being sure that his footsteps made no sound on the floor of the hallway. He didn't want to disturb the vampires as they held their meeting in the library, nor did he want to bother Elizabeta. The young woman was in her bedroom, not making any audible noises. She wasn't crying, but this rather worried Arthur, since he expected her to still be hurt by his insulting remark. But he didn't have time to investigate any further. He would just have to wait until he was sure that she had calmed down before he would apologize.

He didn't have much of a choice but to say that he was sorry. He really hadn't meant to insult her. All that he was trying to do was straighten out her mind and find out where her true affection lay. But with Francis's insults floating around clearly in his mind, it was difficult to keep such opinions to himself.

As Arthur passed by the library, he could hear Francis's low and thickly accented voice, and then Gilbert's louder voice say something in response. He sounded angry. What were the vampires discussing? Arthur knew that he wasn't allowed to enter the library and listen in on the conversation, but… he was curious. He wanted to know what Gilbert was so upset about. As silently and cautiously as he could move, Arthur crept up to the library entrance and leaned up against the wall, the side of his head tilted so that he could hear the conversation that was muffled by the wooden door through one ear.

"Gilbert," Francis said calmly. "Don't make me lose my temper with you. I'm telling you that you and your brother can stay in contact with each other, but he can't come back to this house ever again. I think that you can be satisfied with writing letters to him or meeting him from time to time in town. It hasn't killed you before not to see him, and it certainly won't kill you this time. That's partially because you're an immortal vampire, though." He chuckled softly.

Gilbert sounded furious as he retaliated to Francis's words. "He's my brother, you idiot! You know just as fucking well as I did that he was supposed to die a couple hundred years ago after I was turned into a vampire! I thought that he was dead, damn it!" The volume of his voice grew, startling Arthur. "If I had known that he was alive, then I would have been by his side this entire time, whether you agreed with my decision or not! Damn it, Francis, Ludwig is my brother! He's the only family I've got anymore!"

A jolt of pain electrocuted Arthur's heart when he heard that. It wasn't physical, but the pain was just as intense. He could relate to Gilbert's situation, having only one living family member nearby and within reach. Once Alfred had come looking for him to make sure that he was okay, he didn't want to leave him again. It was getting lonely in the mansion. However, for his cousin's safety, Arthur had to force him from the house to prevent Francis from sinking his teeth into his tender neck and draining him of his precious human life. Regardless, he missed him and wished that the obnoxious American would come back to rescue him as long as there was no risk of him being harmed.

"I don't really give a damn, Gilbert," Francis said coldly, moving the conversation along. "I don't care if he's your brother. I still wouldn't care if he was your father or son or even your lover. That filthy cur Ludwig will not take another step into my house and make it smell like wet dog again."

"Bullshit!" Gilbert spat out, enraged. "That is complete and utter bullshit!" Arthur could hear Antonio cough weakly, whispering in a hoarse voice for Gilbert to calm down, but he was ignored. He sounded awful; he must have still been recovering from Francis's violent assault from before. Arthur started to listen again. He heard no reply from Francis responding to Gilbert, so the German albino continued. "Come on, Francis! How would you feel if suddenly you couldn't have Arthur?"

A stunned silence filled the library. Even Arthur's breath hitched, as his name was mentioned. He couldn't even take in a small bit of air as he waited in suspense for Francis's response.

"I refuse to answer that question," Francis said quietly after a few moments.

"I don't care. It doesn't matter," Gilbert said, obviously mocking Francis. "I don't care if you won't answer. You love that guy, don't you? You've kissed him, you've fucked him, you've bent him to your will, and you very obviously care about him. Trust me on this, Frenchie, you love him." He snickered, his voice sounding as hoarse as Antonio's did, but perhaps that was just the way that he normally laughed. "And you know what else, Francis? If that's not enough proof for you, then you'll rest easier knowing that I read your girly little diary the other night. All of your emotions are clearly displayed in there."

Arthur's mind spun. He could barely comprehend the sound of a chair being knocked over in the library as his hand covered his mouth, his eyes staring blankly ahead as he was lost in his own mind. Francis… doesn't actually love me, right? He cares about me, but… he doesn't love me. That's impossible. That's just impossible… His attention was drawn back to the closed-off room when he heard footsteps walking across the room. Was someone coming to open up the door? No, thankfully—the footsteps stopped and didn't come near the door. Instead, there was a sharp exclamation from Gilbert, followed by a stream of cuss words, part German, part English, which faded away into silence. There was another sound too, a low growl from Francis's throat. "You've gone a step too far, Gilbert," he snarled. Gilbert cried out again, and Arthur did his best to cover the horrified squeak that escaped his lips.

It may have been quiet, the noise that Arthur made, but apparently it wasn't quiet enough. No noise came from the room any longer. Silence. Then footsteps. This time, they were coming to the door. Frantically looking for means of escape, Arthur glanced helplessly down the hall. The nearest room he could take refuge in was the bathroom, but it was too far to reach now. Nothing around him could hide him, either. There really was no choice but to wait to be discovered.

The door swung open, and Francis strode out without a sign of hesitation in doing so. He turned and stood close to Arthur, leaning into him and leaving hardly any distance between their bodies as he glowered at the cowering human. Arthur had sunk down against the wall a few inches staring up at the furious vampire. Suddenly, his shirt collar was grasped between cold and bony fingers, roughly thrusting him forward and causing him to stumble and fall forwards a little. Francis kept his firm grip on Arthur as he hissed, "How long were you listening?"

Arthur stared directly ahead. He didn't want to face the vampire. He didn't reply. How could he? He was sure that anything that he said would only get him in even more trouble. To his surprise Francis suddenly threw Arthur to the ground, kneeling beside him with a hand pressing down on the back of his neck. "Answer my question this instant," he demanded. Arthur swallowed nervously.

"I was listening s-since the point that Gilbert w-was yelling about his brother," Arthur stammered his words muffled due to the fact that his mouth was being pressed against the floor. He wondered how he would be punished this time. "F-forgive me, Master…"

He barely managed to turn his head to the side under the firm hand to see Francis's lips curl up in a chilling smile. "I don't think so," he cooed, his voice oddly syrupy and calming. "I recall telling you specifically not to listen in on us. There _will_ be consequences. You know that Arthur." Arthur nodded weakly his face growing pale. There was no chance of escaping this punishment. There was not even a silver of hope.

Antonio limped out of the room, leaning on the wall for support. "Francis… what's happening?" he asked quietly.

Francis glanced up at Antonio, his eyes hard. "Arthur was spying on us, that little bastard." I'm right here! Arthur thought contemptuously. But he kept quiet. "He heard what Gilbert was saying," Francis continued harshly. "I'm sorry for cutting our meeting short, but I have to discipline Arthur severely for what he's done. Then again, I don't know if Gilbert could take much more of that. Go fetch Elizabeta, would you, _mon ami?_ Those wounds of his aren't going to heal themselves and I doubt that Gilbert has the strength to move anymore."

"You hurt Gilbert?" Arthur gasped out before he had time to think about what he was saying.

Francis stared down coldly at Arthur. "Yes, I did," he said haughtily. "But I never gave you permission to speak, did I, pet? Remain quiet until I say that you can talk again, understood?" Arthur immediately shut his mouth, but his eyes wandered to the library door. Would Gilbert be okay?

Antonio coughed weakly. "I'll go get Elizabeta then," he said, limping to the stairs. Arthur watched him. For the first time he noticed how awful the Spanish vampire looked. He had dark circles under his gaunt eyes and he was moving slowly as if he was in pain. Just how badly were vampires hurt when they lost that whitish fluid from their bodies?

Arthur's attention was drawn back to Francis as the vampire grabbed the back of his shirt collar and thrust Arthur up suddenly, holding firmly so that the human wouldn't lose his balance and fall over. "I probably shouldn't punish you now," he growled. "Considering the mood that I'm in, I might just kill you. But the chances are, I probably won't, so you'll just get a good beating to ensure that you won't disobey me like that again."

Arthur nodded, keeping his lips sealed, while wondering why Francis was so furious. He had never been this angry before.

Could it have been because Arthur had overheard Gilbert saying that Francis was in love with him?

* * *

><p>"Tell me, pet, why you are down here," Francis hissed heatedly, picking out a weapon from the cabinet while Arthur watched him from his place against the wall. Francis hadn't restrained his body yet, so he was just leaning up against the wall—but Arthur knew that he would eventually. Francis was mad, and he wasn't going to get away with just a few cuts and bruises. Francis picked out a knife, but after a moment of examining it, he put it back to choose another weapon.<p>

"I'm down here because I was listening in on your conversation with the other vampires in the library," Arthur replied earnestly. "And I heard Gilbert saying that you loved me."

Arthur knew that his words would only infuriate the vampire further. He knew that his punishment would be, at least, doubled because of that. But if he could get a bit of an explanation out of Francis, then he would be content. He couldn't go for much longer without knowing if Francis really did love him, for the curiosity gnawing at his stomach threatened to rip him apart. He also knew that if Francis really was in love with him, there was that slim chance that he would be freed from this whole "Master and Pet" ordeal.

Francis turned on his heel at Arthur's comment, eyes flashing dangerously. "Say that again," he ordered sharply. There was nothing that could compare to the seething fire burning in his words.

Arthur swallowed nervously. Francis had never, ever been this mad at him before. "I-I said," he began, his voice softer than before. "I'm here because I was listening in on your conversation and I heard Gilbert say that you loved me. If he hadn't said that, would I even be here right now?"

Francis opened his mouth, about to answer, but he shut it in an instant and stormed up to Arthur. To the human's horror, there was a pistol in his hand. Arthur pressed himself up against the wall as Francis leaned into him, glaring furiously. "You are in no place to ask such a question of me," he spat. "From this point on, you will speak no more than to respond to my questions, understood?"

"Y-yes," Arthur whispered. "I understand… Master."

"What was that hesitation?" Francis hissed, grabbing Arthur's shirt collar and jerking him up. Arthur gritted his teeth together and stared at Francis while he waited for the vampire's next move. Francis only stared back. "I want you to be completely obedient, and hesitating to refer to me as you should will be counted as disobedience. Do you hear me, Arthur?"

"Yes, Master," Arthur said quickly, biting his lip.

"Good," Francis said, releasing Arthur and heading off to the cabinet again. He placed the gun and glanced back to Arthur. "You won't make the same mistake again, I presume."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, Master—I mean, no… I won't do it again."

What was with this sudden obedience? Arthur felt like he had no control over his words. All he could do was obey Francis and reply to his questions, as if he actually respected Francis. True, in some ways he did—Francis was older, wiser, and prettier, had beautiful sapphire eyes that seemed to capture his soul as he stared into them… Arthur did all he could to resist slapping himself in the face. How could he think such things? He didn't love Francis; he didn't respect that fucking monster, and he never would. Ever. _Ever._

"Here," Francis mumbled to himself, pulling out a huge, double-bladed axe that looked very old-fashioned. And by huge, Arthur meant gigantic. It was the height of the cabinet itself. It was probably several decades old, maybe even centuries. It was made of some sort of metal, and the blade wasn't dull in the least. The sharp metal points had been polished and sharpened recently, from the looks of it, but the handle was rusted and ancient. "This will do nicely." He turned and smiled brightly at Arthur. "This looks like a good choice, _oui, mon cher?_ This belongs to Antonio, but as long as I clean the blood off of it afterword he won't mind if I use it…"

"B-blood?" Arthur whispered, dumbstruck by the monstrosity of the weapon at Francis wielded it proudly. "What the hell would you use such a weapon for?"

"I told you not to speak unless answering a question," Francis said coolly. "But I'll allow it this once. This weapon can be used for many things. Beheading, stabbing, even cutting down small trees. In this case, it shall be used for amputation."

"A…" Arthur gaped and started to back away. "You cannot be serious."

Francis beamed at him, the dim light reflecting off of his sharp white teeth as he advanced on Arthur while holding the weapon across his body. "I'm sure that you won't miss just one of your legs," he whispered disturbingly. Arthur shivered and backed up until he was in the corner. Panicked, he glanced behind him. Unless there was a secret door inside the wall, there was no escape. Francis suddenly lunged, earning a startled squeak from Arthur as the blond vampire jabbed the handle up to his throat. Arthur gasped as the cold metal rod pressed against his neck. "After all," Francis purred, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Arthur struggling vainly to maintain proper breathing. "I need a good way to punish you. I'm mad at you. Furious." His eyes glittered. He didn't look angry at all. "I won't let you forget this experience. And don't you agree that permanently mutilating your body is the best way to embed this into your mind?"

"Please," Arthur gasped out. "I promise, I'll never do it again! I swear it, I do! Don't cut off my leg! I'll never be able to walk the same again!"

"I'll help you walk, don't worry," Francis said reassuringly, though the context made it sound far less comforting than it would have. "Relax, okay? If you move, it will hurt a lot more. I promise that I'll bandage the leg after I'm done, and I'll help you until it's healed. You'll be fine. This is just your punishment."

Arthur shook his head the best he could. The pressure on his throat was getting worse. "P-please," he moaned. "Don't do it. I swear, I'll behave for you! J-just don't amputate any of my limbs! Please, please…"

Francis chuckled as he swung the axe down from Arthur's neck, allowing the human to breathe properly again. "You don't know how many times I've heard that," he laughed. "So many of my victims have pleaded just like you. All of them are dead now, though. Except you won't die. You'll be in horrible agony instead."

Arthur whimpered and cowered up against the wall. "I'm begging you, Master…"

"Begging me does nothing to help you," Francis cooed, grasping Arthur's chin forcibly and thrusting it up while he smirked down at him. "I'm sure that I can think of some way to compensate for this punishment, but you wouldn't like it at all…"

"Anything!" Arthur gasped out. "Master, I'll do anything! Don't… just don't touch me with that damned axe!"

Francis eyed Arthur, amusement dancing in his bluish eyes. "Language," he chided gently. "Just remember, Arthur, when you say anything… you do promise me anything."

Arthur's eyes widened with joy. "Yes, of course!" he confirmed.

Francis chuckled. "If you insist. If you go back on your word, then… you know what will happen to you, _oui?_"

"Yes, Master." Arthur nodded. What could be worse than getting his leg cut off? Nothing, for sure.

Francis then proceeded to replace the axe back in the cabinet, closing it and turning to Arthur. "You owe me two things," he said, holding up two pale, slender fingers. "The first thing—you owe me one night. Tomorrow night, your body is mine."

Arthur nodded, listening eagerly. He wasn't too keen on being violated for the second time that week, but it wasn't an awful replacement.

"Second," Francis tilted his chin up and smirked at Arthur. "You must do what I tell you to this night. It will… be a surprise. You won't like it one bit, but don't try and fight me."

_What is he planning?_ Arthur thought. "Yes, Master."

"_Merveilleux!_" Francis said cheerfully, clapping his hands together. "Lucky for you, pet, I'm in a much better mood now, so you'll get off lightly for just this once."

"Y-yes, Master." Arthur nodded quickly. "Thank you very much, Master. I swear that I won't let anything like that happen again."

Francis chuckled. "You had better not. Now let's go upstairs. I hurt Gilbert and I think it would be best if I go and check on him. You'll come with me, pet, in case he needs any extra assistance."

"Yes, Master." Arthur followed Francis up the stairs, grateful for his allowance to remain with all of his limbs.

When they came to Gilbert and Elizabeta's room, Arthur was horrified at the sight.

Gilbert was lying down in the bed, his head supported by two fluffy white pillows. At first, he didn't look that bad; he was in a comfortable position and looked almost normal if his face wasn't clenched up in pain and had a large gash torn in his face on his cheek above his mouth seemingly by Francis's hand. The white liquid that appeared to be the vampire equivalent to blood was stained around his neck and cheek. Elizabeta was by his side, holding up a needle with some thin white string threaded through the eye of the sharp instrument. She seemed to be pleading with him, but Gilbert was continuing to shake his head determinedly.

Francis cleared his throat as he stepped into the room, Arthur trailing timidly behind. Elizabeta glanced up, jade eyes wide with worry. "Francis," she said, her voice holding concern. "Gilbert won't let me stitch up the wound. It's very deep even though he is a vampire, it will heal odd and he might not be able to talk properly again! Please, help!"

Francis nodded, to Arthur's surprise. "Very well. Gilbert," he snapped. Gilbert glanced up at him, opening one crimson eye to weakly stare in his direction. "Why won't you let Elizabeta help you?"

"It…" Gilbert started, cringing as the pain of the injury while he spoke stung him. "It… hurts too much and… ah…" He moaned softly. "I don't want… any thread inside of my skin… Nn…"

"Is that so?" Francis said, tilting his head to the side. Arthur watched him, worried that he might attack Gilbert for whatever odd reasons he had. "You're telling me that you would rather talk like a mentally retarded human than have some thread in your flesh?"

Gilbert shrugged, his breathing shallow. "Doesn't matter," he whispered. "Just don't touch me with that shit, okay…" His voice trailed away and he winced as he was struck with another wave of pain. "Shut up and leave me alone, _ja?_"

Francis shook his head with a small smirk. "I don't think so. Elizabeta, hand me the needle, will you?"

"Ah, fuck…" Gilbert moaned, watching Francis wearily. "Come on, man. We're friends. You wouldn't do this to me."

Francis tugged on the thread to make sure that it was secured before reaching out to Gilbert. "I'm your friend, and that's why I'm doing it to you. I'm not going to leave you like this."

"Fuck no," Gilbert protested weakly. "Seriously, you didn't do this to Toni when you fucked up his body!"

"Well, Antonio actually has sex with someone," Francis said dryly. "Unlike you. I don't see why you and Elizsabeta don't do it more often. If you did, I wouldn't have to do this."

Elizabeta and Arthur exchanged glances. Arthur's read, _What the heck is he talking about?_ In return, Elizabeta's said, _How am I supposed to know?_

"Fine!" Gilbert snapped, groaning as he felt more pain rush through his face. He turned to Elizabeta. "Hey, Liza. Do you want to heal me?"

Elizabeta stared at Gilbert, disgusted. "No, of course not!"

"Don't you care about me?"

"Why would I?" Elizabeta gave a final glance to Arthur, _Sorry I have to go_, and she promptly left the room. Arthur glanced to Francis, and seeing no reason to stay, quickly followed the young woman to the bottom of the stairs. There, he placed a hand on her shoulder and gently turned her around.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly. "For snapping at you earlier. I didn't mean what I said."

Elizabeta smiled. "Not many men have the ball to go up to a girl and apologize. Thank you, Arthur." She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek lightly. Arthur stiffened, automatically glancing up the stairs to see if Francis was there. Thankfully, he wasn't. "Arthur…" Elizabeta said. Arthur turned to her as she spoke. "Francis won't catch us from now on. We can keep this a secret."

"And get me beaten because of Francis's cruel excuse for punishment," Arthur replied dryly. "I'm sorry, Elizabeta, we just can't do this."

"I know," Elizabeta sighed, looking down at her feet in disappointment. "I… just want to be with you. I mean…" She leaned in close, resting the side of her face on his shoulder. "With you. But as long as those vampires exist, there's no hope of getting out of here."

Arthur watched her. He wasn't going to bring up the subject of Roderich this time, mostly so he wouldn't feel guilty about making her choose between him, Gilbert, and her husband again. He opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. To his relief, Elizabeta spoke again. "Arthur… you tried to kill Francis once, didn't you? Can't you do it again?"

"I wouldn't want to try," Arthur replied with a small sigh. "If I anger Francis again, then I'm going to lose one of my legs. I'm lucky that I can walk right now, even. There's no way I can take any chances."

Elizabeta nodded in understanding. "That's okay," she said with a small smile. "I wouldn't want to put you in unnecessary danger."

_"Unnecessary danger" as in when you kiss me?_ Arthur thought. "Thanks," he said, feigning a small smile. "For being considerate of me—" He was interrupted by a loud holler from upstairs.

"HOLY _SHIT,_ FRANCIS! DON'T YOU DARE PUT THAT INSIDE OF ME! FUCK! FUCK IT! GET IT OUT! GET THAT THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING ANUS!"

Silence fell across the two humans. They both stared up at the second floor, eyes stretched wide as Gilbert continued to scream. "DON'T DO THAT WITHOUT LUBE, _VERDAMMT! ARSCHLOCH!"_

Elizabeta paled. She glanced nervously at Arthur, covering her mouth with her hand. "Gilbert… obviously doesn't know that we're listening," she mumbled. Arthur nodded, looking down to hide his blushing face.

* * *

><p>Arthur picked at his pasta dinner that Lovino had cooked. He wasn't feeling hungry again, for some reason. Perhaps it was the anxiety that came with awaiting Francis's "surprise" for him in the basement later that night, when he returned from his evening hunt with the other vampires (however, this time he went alone because Antonio and Gilbert stayed home to recover from their injuries). The Italian seemed to be not eating either, even though pasta was his favorite dish.<p>

"I can't believe it," Lovino grumbled, suddenly slamming his fork down on the wooden table. Arthur and Elizabeta glanced up at him, while Lovino just folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair, his face red with anger. He glowered up at Arthur, who returned the gaze with wide, confused eyes as he wondered if the Italian's anger was directed at him. "You," Lovino growled accusingly. "Ever since you came, you son of a bitch, everything's been really fucked up with Francis."

"You're blaming me?" Arthur said in disbelief. "You know that Francis has some sort of emotional conflict inside of him and thus has random mood swings! He gets mad easily—"

"That's not the fucking point," Lovino snarled. "When he attacked Antonio like that, I was pissed. Those two are close friends and they've been by each other's sides for hundreds of years. Same with Gilbert. They've never hurt one another for as far back as I can remember! And I was the first human here!"

Arthur blinked. "So you're claiming that when Francis attacked Antonio and Gilbert, I was the cause of it…" His voice trailed away.

Lovino was right. When Francis had ripped open Antonio's stomach and throat, it was because the Spaniard had been trying to violate the human. Also, when the vampires were meeting in the library, Francis attacked Gilbert when the albino vampire had made a comment about Arthur.

"I guess you're right," Arthur murmured, correcting himself. "Sorry. Lovino. I don't mean to cause trouble. I truly am sorry."

Elizabeta leaned across the table and poked Lovino's arm with one finger. "Lovi, Arthur's a little stressed. Lay off of him, okay? Unlike you, he doesn't have a nice master that forgives him for anything he does. It's not like when you break Antonio's priceless vase and he gives you a big hug. When Arthur forgets to call Francis "Master" then he gets whipped hundreds of times. So really, be a little nicer to him, alright?"

Lovino grumbled something that sounded like an apology, while Arthur picked up his fork to continue eating. Thank you ever so much for reminding me, Elizabeta, he thought, shoveling a large forkful of pasta into his mouth. Even if he wasn't hungry he needed to keep his strength up. Francis's "surprise" was still waiting for him.

Elizabeta glanced around at the two males. "Hey," she said suddenly. "Lighten up, you two!"

Both Arthur and Lovino cast glares at her. How can I "lighten up?" Arthur thought. He was anxiously awaiting Francis's surprise for him when he returned home. Arthur continued to eat his pasta in silence. Lovino was apparently lost in his own thoughts as well. Elizabeta, with a gusty sigh, gave up with trying to converse with the others.

Once finished with his meal, Arthur carried his dishes to the sink and placed them in. "Eliza," he called. "I'm going to visit Gilbert and see how he's doing, just while I'm waiting for Francis to return."

Elizabeta nodded, probably pleased that someone was finally talking to her. "That's fine. Just don't tick him off. He's been in kind of a bad mood since he and Francis… anyways, I'll be up there when I'm done eating to join you."

"Okay, thanks." Arthur smiled and made his way up the stairs.

Gilbert glanced to the door as Arthur entered quietly, closing it behind him. "Hey, kid," Gilbert greeted with a weak smile. Arthur observed that his wound appeared to be getting better. The pale skin had already begun to close around the gash and all of the white pus had been cleaned from his cheek, which made the wound look a lot less frightening. "What brings you up here, Arthur? Is the Frenchie vampire not back yet?"

"No, sir," Arthur said politely. "I just came up to see how you were doing. Did Francis—er…" Arthur corrected himself. "Did my master stitch up your wound for you?"

"Nein," Gilbert chuckled, waving his hand casually. "Since he fucked me, it'll heal just fine by itself, y'know?"

Arthur didn't reply. Gilbert cocked his head to the side curiously. "Something up, kid? Don't you know that when y' do it with a vampire, then your wounds and shit heal by themselves? Doesn't matter if you had a hole in your stomach or if your face was torn open. Stuff'll heal crazy fast."

Arthur nodded ,beginning to understand exactly why he woke up after doing it with Francis to find that there were no injuries whatsoever on his body despite his earlier beatings.

"But vampires take a longer time to heal than humans because their bodies don't fix up themselves the same way, see? Having sex helps speed up the process of that. Just a little trivia for you, Arthur. You probably didn't want to know that." He chuckled. "But it's in your head and it's not coming back out, trust me."

"Arthur~! Mon lapin~!" yelled a familiar, heavily accented voice from downstairs. Arthur whipped his head around and stared at the door. Shit, Francis was back. "I'm home~! It's time for your surprise, so come down to the basement!"

"God luck, kid," Gilbert said, giving Arthur a thumbs up before the human dashed away to meet up with his master.

Arthur glanced around the area of the front door. Francis was already in the basement. He reached for the door handle of the basement, only to find that the door was open. Quickly, he went onto the stairs, closing the door behind him and trotting down the staircase to the torture room.

"Ah," Francis turned and smiled, a bit of blood staining his sharp canine teeth. "That was quick. Arthur, welcome to the first part of your punishment. Say hello, love," he said, nodding to the man beside him.

Arthur's breath hitched in his throat. For what seemed like hours he felt like he couldn't breathe as he stared.

"Hey," said the blond man beside Francis. His hands were tied behind his back and there was a bloody bite mark on the side of his neck, but behind his cracked glasses were those all-too-familiar baby blue eyes. "How've you been, Artie?"

"Alfred," Arthur breathed. He seemed to be in a trance as he stared at his cousin who smiled back nervously, licking his lips, but he broke away from his thoughts and shook his head to clear it. "Alfred!" he exclaimed, the volume of his voice growing. "I thought that you were going back to America, damn it! What are you still doing in London? You're in danger here…!"

Alfred grinned, making a pitiful attempt at looking happy. "I couldn't leave my little cousin to deal with this homicidal bastard vampire in this huge ass fucking mansion, could I? You're not strong enough to defend for yourself, so I was gonna come and rescue you when I had the proper preparations for killing a vampire. But…" he chuckled. "I guess I came to visit you earlier than I thought, huh?"

"Git!" Arthur exploded. "Stupid bloody git! I can defend for myself quite well, and I don't need your bloody protection! You're only putting yourself in danger while you stay in London, Alfred! Damn it, why didn't you just leave? Idiot!"

"If you're quite done," Francis interrupted coolly. "I'd like to introduce how this will work." Both Arthur and Alfred watched Francis silently as the vampire strode over to Arthur and picked up his wrist, tugging him forwards. "Don't just stand there, pet. Come over to the wall so I can chain you there. All I want you to do is listen to how much your handsome cousin here screams and begs for mercy from the kind and forgiving vampire." He laughed cruelly.

* * *

><p><strong>Um, okay... yeah. Twist.<strong>  
><strong>I'm tired. It's past eleven and I'm tired. I didn't even feel like typing anything... going to sleep soon... instead of making Hetalia bookmarks. D:<strong>

**You guys have been amazing with your reviews, please keep it up! I love you all so much! Remember to be signed in when you review, please! That way I can reply! I get sad when I can't thank you for commenting...**

**-my favourite part of the story is when gilbert tells francis to take whatever it was out of his ***. for some reason i find that funny. sorry i'm weird that way. and torture in the next chapter. maybe r18 sex. :D okay, done talking.-**


	10. Reflection and Attempt

Alfred uttered a surprised squeak but Arthur let no reaction show as Francis slipped his wrists through metal shackles that bound him to the wall. He felt like a starfish, the way that his limbs were spread out from his body. He didn't object at all as Francis took out a strip of black cloth from his pocket and wrapped it around Arthur's head, blinding him. Arthur's nose twitched in disdain but he made no noise.

"Now," Francis said. "Arthur, this is your punishment. I will not hesitate to kill Alfred if you do anything that angers me. Understood?" Arthur nodded, wishing that he could see what Francis was doing.

"W-wait…" Alfred groaned. "You're not really going to torture me, right?"

Francis chuckled softly. "Of course I am. I'm going to torture you until you beg for death. And who knows, maybe I'll take pity on you and kill you finally." Alfred whimpered fearfully. Francis snickered and Arthur heard his footsteps going to the cabinet of weapons. He opened it up and picked out… something. It couldn't have been anything good.

There was a loud cracking sound, and a sharp exclamation of pain from Alfred. Arthur winced at his cousin's cry, gasping a little. Francis had a whip and he was using to beat his closest living relative.

"Aw, shit, that hurt," Alfred muttered. "Argh… oh, is that blood on my face? Son of a bitch! You stupid vampire, you made me bleed with that thing!"

_Alfred, now is not the time for that attitude!_ Arthur thought while wisely keeping his mouth closed. _Don't fight him! Just give in and he won't hurt you as much… I hope_.

There was an amused chuckle from Francis in response to Alfred's insult. "You obviously don't understand," he cooed. "You'll only be hurt even more if you talk back to me like that. And do you know what, Alfred?" There was another loud crack and a louder, clearer yell of pain from the blond human. Arthur sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as Alfred moaned in pain. "Even if this is only to punish Arthur, you appear to be in need of some discipline as well. I don't give light punishments, either. Prepare yourself, Alfred." Another three cracks of the whip and several cries rang in Arthur's ears.

"Shit!" Alfred yelled. "You've torn my clothes now! And they're bloody!"

"_Mon ami…_" Francis said eerily. "That's the least of your problems. I'm going to whip you until your blood puddles around my feet."

_Oh God…_

Arthur heard footsteps staggering towards the staircase. Oh no, Alfred was trying to escape. Francis would only capture him again… _Fool! Why can't you comprehend what's going on?_

There was a _whoosh_ of movement, and the sound of a body slamming into the ground and something glass breaking. Those must have been Alfred's glasses, smashed into pieces as Francis smashed Arthur's cousin's face with the cold, hard ground. "Don't even try and run," Francis purred. There was another sound of movement. "It looks like I'll have to restrain you somehow… Oh, here, Alfred. Come over to the wall and I'll tie you up there."

"Fuck that!" Alfred declared bravely, but his voice was tense with pain and it was obvious that he was struggling to defend himself against the vampire. "I am the hero! I refuse to be tied down and beaten!"

Francis only laughed coldly. "Is that so? If you keep on resisting me like this, then I will tie you down and beat you ten times more than I would if you just listened to me now!" There was a sharp cry from Alfred and a sickening cracking noise as something hit the wall beside Arthur.

"Fuck," Alfred groaned. "My head… I'm going to have brain damage after this, you know… Geez…"

"Alfred," Arthur said softly. There was silence next to him. Good, Alfred was listening. "I… I'm blindfolded, so I can't see how badly you're hurt…" He swallowed. "But please, please stop fighting Francis. You'll only get more injured. I can't… I can't listen to your cries of pain for much longer, Al."

There was silence. Had Alfred even heard him? But then his response came just a few moments later. "Arthur," Alfred mumbled. "What's happened to you?"

"Huh?" Arthur was confused. Nothing had happened to him, right?

There was the sound of Francis securing shackles around Alfred's wrists as the other human murmured, "Arthur, you're different now. You used to be a lot stronger. If you were in this situation when I had last come to London to visit you, you would have fought back with all of your might, maybe until you died. That was kind of your style, you know? But now…" He paused and sighed. "You're weak. You're doing exactly what the vampire tells you to. It's kind of weird. You're letting yourself be dominated."

Arthur felt his cheeks grow warm. The mention of being "dominated" reminded him too much of when he and Francis slept together. "Git," he muttered, turning his head away a bit. "I'm not always like that. It's just hard to fight back here. I get punished. Tortured."

"It's just not like you," Alfred argued quietly. "Hey, you know, if we both fight back…"

"I can hear you talking," Francis interrupted suddenly. Arthur kept his mouth shut. "And if you think of trying to resist me then I'll cut off all of your limbs. Both of you. So why don't you just keep quiet?"

"Yes, Master," Arthur mumbled. "Sorry for speaking to Alfred."

Arthur felt a hand pat his head. "Good boy," Francis praised. "That's just the answer that I want to hear."

There was a growl of disdain from Alfred. "Fuck you, vampire."

Arthur gasped a bit as the whip cracked again. "FUCK!" Alfred screeched. "You—you hit my chest with that! Are you trying to kill me?"

"I might be," Francis replied with a small laugh.

"You insane bastard!"

There was another loud yell of pain, followed by another as Francis continued to whip Alfred. Arthur grit his teeth and clenched his fist as his cousin continued to scream in agony.

"Stop!"

Arthur could barely tell that was his own voice at it came out of his mouth shrill and desperate. "Please, stop," he moaned as Francis paused to listen. Arthur swallowed before he started to speak again. "That's enough. I've learned my lesson. Just stop… stop hurting Alfred."

Francis sighed heavily. "Arthur, _mon cher…_ I honestly don't think that you have. You're only saying that to get out of this easily. I'm afraid that won't happen."

"Then please," Arthur pleaded, tears stinging his eyes behind the blindfold. "At least let Alfred live!"

"Oh, but that would be cruel, don't you think?"

"What?" Arthur was horrified. Just how badly was Alfred hurt? As if in response to his thoughts, he felt the blindfold being untied and lifted from his teary eyes.

Francis gestured to Alfred. "Here, take a good, long look. Do you really want him to live now?"

Arthur blinked a few times at first, wondering if what he was seeing was real. His mouth was agape and his emerald eyes were wide as they set sight on the horror before him. Alfred, not wearing his glasses (as they had been smashed on the ground a few feet away) was covered in bloody scratches and welts all over his face and chest. His clothes were torn, too, and his eyes were closed; but he wasn't squeezing them shut in agony, no—he looked peaceful.

"Al," Arthur whispered. No response. "Al!" he cried out, a little more desperately. "Alfred! Open your eyes!" Tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. "Open… your eyes, please…"

Much to Arthur's relief, Alfred stirred. His eyelids gradually lifted to reveal two dull cerulean jewels. "Yeah, Artie?" he murmured, his eyes regaining a hint of their usual sparkle. "Huh? Oh, you're crying… Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Are you kidding?" Arthur exclaimed. "Alfred, you—you're—Oh, God, I'm so sorry, Alfred!" He hung his head, staring at the ground. A few specks of dark red blood dotted the cement. "This is my fault," he whispered. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have been dragged into this."

Francis clapped his hand together suddenly, causing a loud ringing noise to echo through Arthur's ears. He glanced up. Francis smiled at him like there wasn't a dying human in front of him. "That's good enough for me," he announced, approaching Alfred and removing his shackles. "You've learned your lesson, Arthur."

The instant that the support of the shackles that held Alfred up was released, his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap.

"Alfred!" Arthur strained against his own restraints, vainly praying for the miracle that they would break. He glanced up desperately at Francis. "He needs help! Medical help! He's going to die, Francis!"

Francis, with an amused glint in his eyes, only licked his lips as he watched Arthur struggle to help his cousin. "I only brought him here to punish you. I never said that I would help heal him afterword, did I?"

"Please, heal him!" Arthur begged. "I wouldn't be able to stand it if he died! At least, God help me, heal him the same way that you healed me and Gilbert… You can do that, right? I beg of you…"

Francis cocked his head to the side, a smile playing across his lips. "No," he replied simply. "I will not."

"Why?" Arthur questioned, panicking, his voice shrill. "You did it to Gilbert! Why not him?"

The vampire lifted his hand to his face and examined his sharp nails casually. "He's annoying and his blood tastes bad," he stated coolly. "I don't like him. But if you want his suffering to end…" Arthur glanced up, hope in his eyes. "…then I can put him out of his misery. Just look at him, Arthur. He's in horrible agony. Since I'm not going to heal him, the kindest thing to do now is to kill him and let him rest."

Arthur jerked at the metal cuffs again. They didn't break. "I'll do anything if you heal him," he begged. "Anything! I don't care what… As long as… as long as you help him!"

Francis tilted his chin up in a haughty manner. "Anything at all, pet? No matter what it is I ask of you, you'll do it?"

"Yes!"

"No, thank you," Francis said calmly. "It's not worth it."

Arthur's upper lip twitched. "At least get me down from this wall," he requested quietly.

Francis sighed softly, as if he was unwilling to comply with the human's request. However, he did so, watching in silence as Arthur dropped to his knees beside his cousin and gently touched his hand to his bloodied face. "Alfred," he whispered. "Can you hear me, Al? Give me some sign that you can understand what I'm saying, please… don't you dare die and leave me all alone again…"

* * *

><p>Date: June 16, 1980.<p>

I felt rather sorry for my pet's cousin. I think that I was too hard on him. He's not very resistant to torture.

I believe that the main reason I helped Alfred was because I don't want Arthur, not even for the sake of his punishment, to lose anyone.

I know that you're watching, Jeanne. Are you proud of me?

* * *

><p>Arthur stared at his cousin's peaceful face intently as he sat in a chair that he had pulled up to the side of Francis's bed. Thankfully, but for an unknown reason, Francis had decided to help Alfred. He hadn't healed him completely, and instead dressed the many wounds on his body with white bandages that were now dyed with dark red. That was about four hours ago, and now the first signs of dawn were peeking through the partially closed claret curtains, dust dancing in the rays of the sun that fell into the room.<p>

Francis entered the room at that point, slowly closing the door behind him. "How is he, pet? Still alive?"

That made Arthur panic for a moment, the thought briefly coming to his mind that Alfred may have actually been dead. However, when he glanced to his cousin, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw that his chest was rising and falling with deep, calm breaths. "He's fine," Arthur murmured. "He just hasn't woken up yet."

Francis strode over to Arthur and pointed one pale finger at Arthur's forehead, poking it gently and almost teasingly. "And how have you been doing yourself, _mon petit lapin?_ You've been up all night and you've been like this for hours, just staring at him like that."

"Perhaps I wasn't here the whole time," Arthur replied coolly, not a hint of fear showing in his voice. There was no reason to fear the vampire now, anyways. "Maybe while you were gone, I was out doing something else." He blinked as something suddenly came to his mind. "Just how long were you gone, anyways? Thirty minutes?"

"Two hours."

"I was close," Arthur said with a shrug.

Francis smiled warmly. "_Non,_ you were way off."

"Oh, well—"

"You know," Francis interrupted, leaning forward and snaking one arm around Arthur's waist. The human blushed and made a small attempt to wriggle out of his grasp, but made no success. "You do owe me for helping your cousin," he said, his breath stirring Arthur's blond hair. "Do you know what you owe me?"

Arthur licked his lips nervously. "N-not now," he murmured with a glance at his sleeping cousin. "What if Alfred wakes up—"

"I think he'll be asleep for a while," Francis purred, pressing his lips to Arthur's and sweetly kissing him. Before Arthur knew what was happening, Francis had pulled him across the bed, holding him closely to his body while planting delicate kisses over his cheeks, lips, nose, and neck. Arthur moaned softly as the vampire continued to kiss him while using one hand to slip the buttons of his shirt out of their holes, murmuring French terms of endearment to him in a light, breathy voice. "Mon _petit lapin… Je t'aime… mon amour…_"

"Oka~ay then!" Alfred's voice came from beside Arthur and Francis. "Either this is one weird-ass dream or this is the most awkward thing I've ever come across. And I once saw this guy and this prostitute in an alleyway when I was mindin' my own business…"

"Alfred!" Arthur pushed himself off of Francis and stared, his eyes brimming with happiness. "Oh, you're awake! Finally…" He sighed happily. "How do you feel? Are you in pain?"

Alfred shrugged casually, rotating his shoulders in small circles, the slightest hints of pain showing up on his face. "I could be better," he admitted. "I'm sore all over, for sure, but not as bad as I felt last night." He glanced up at Francis. "And speaking of which… The first thing I have to say to you, is that you are a bastard. Second, why the hell did you help me?"

"If that's what you want to know," Francis said dryly as he stood up and brushed off his clothes. He was probably a little frustrated that his "session" with Arthur was interrupted, but he didn't seem too angry about it. "It's because my pet here was begging for your worthless human life to be spared. You don't even know how tempted I was to let you die where you lay on the floor. So thank Arthur for saving that life of yours."

Almost flustered, Alfred turned to Arthur and quietly thanked him, seemingly unsure of what else to do. Arthur replied with only a curt nod holding a sympathetic gaze in his green eyes. Just do what he says, Alfred.

"And now I'll be sending you back home, Alfred."

Arthur's head snapped up and he stared at Francis with wide, shocked eyes. "What?" he exclaimed, hardly making a question. Francis only watched Arthur with cool glittering eyes. "You can't send him back…! At least not back to America! He's the only connection that I have! Please…" Francis made no move to respond, and Arthur stared a moment longer before realizing that Francis would never listen to him. He bit his lip and looked down, silent as he convinced himself that he wouldn't be defeated, or at least not admit it to anyone, let alone Francis.

At that moment, Elizabeta entered the room, holding something in her hand. She slowly and silently walked over to Alfred and handed whatever it was to him. "Your plane tickets," she murmured. "Your flight leaves tonight at six."

Arthur turned to Elizabeta, just staring. He couldn't find the words. Elizabeta noticed, and whispered, "Francis told me to get those. I'm sorry."

She left quickly.

* * *

><p>Arthur let out a gusty sigh and picked out the next book on the library shelf, only to put it back with disappointment as it struck no interest in him. Usually, he was an avid reader (especially when the books involved magic or fantasy, as the one that he had placed back on the shelf did), but nothing was catching his fancy. Since Alfred had left earlier that evening, he had been feeling lonely, as if he had nothing left in his life. Nothing but his own life and Francis's, and what did the vampire matter to him? He wanted that bastard dead more than anything for sending away his relative and precious kitten, along with taking his old life away from him and presenting him with this new, painful, humiliating life. He was a pet, and he had a cruel, bipolar "master" that he was expected to obey. If Francis's demands were not met, he was punished. If he angered the vampire, he was punished. If he tried to love anyone but Francis… he was punished. One option, of course, was to just listen and love Francis back. But he couldn't do that. He just couldn't. That son of a bitch had taken away anything that ever meant anything to the young man. He was cruel. He wasn't even alive, for the love of God.<p>

And then there was the other option.

That one seemed quite logical at this point, actually. Arthur had never taken it into deep consideration before, because of how he clung to his old life and managed to convince himself, at least for a while, that he would get it back. But after all this, it made sense.

Arthur made sure that the books on the shelves were organized and neat before he started down the stairs to the kitchen, making sure that no one was there. He knew for sure that Antonio, Gilbert, and Francis had all gone out hunting for their dinner early, since Antonio and Gilbert hadn't had any fresh blood in days and they were hungry at that time, and Lovino and Elizabeta were out on the balcony of Antonio's room, picking the tomatoes and watering some of them. Arthur had only found out recently that Antonio and Lovino grew tomatoes on the deck.

He had the house to himself, at least for a few minutes.

Arthur listened for a moment to make sure that Elizabeta and Lovino weren't coming downstairs, and then walked right up to the wooden knife block that held a wide variety of wooden-handled, sharp knives. Pulling out one of them, he ran his finger over the edge, cringing as a small cut appeared on his tender flesh. Blood welled up in the wound not long after.

_Would it be sharp enough?_ Arthur licked his lips nervously. _What if it didn't work?_

_**There's no time to think about that.**_

Arthur closed his eyes and lifted the blade to his left wrist, breathing deeply in order to calm himself. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he feared it might burst from his body. He almost felt nauseous at the thought of cutting into his own wrist and letting it bleed out, too, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and steadied his trembling right hand.

He laid the cold metal against the soft, pale skin on the underside of his wrist and examined the vein. He had read about this in books before… All he had to do was cut deep enough, right? But there was no way that he could do it slowly and agonizingly (even though, of course, bleeding to death would be painful anyways).

Keeping his eyes closed, Arthur raised the knife above his wrist, bringing it down slowly to mark his target a couple of times.

Now, to cut—

The knife came down, and a short wave of agony struck him right before—

"Arthur Kirkland."

Arthur's heart stopped and in the same instant that he heard the French accent on his name, he panicked, accidentally cutting into his arm with more force than he intended.

He let out a cry and opened his eyes, releasing the knife and letting it slip from the disgustingly deep slash in his wrist to the tiled kitchen floor, blood splattering beside it. More red pools followed, dripping down.

Arthur collapsed to his knees, gripping his injured arm as pure agony flooded through his entire arm. He had nearly cut off his entire hand, as it now appeared to be almost dangling if the few bones weren't supporting it. Arthur let out a cry of pain, tears slipping from his emerald eyes as he made a feeble attempt to hold up his hand. Not knowing what to do now, he turned to Francis with wide, frightened eyes. He felt like his wrist was on fire. No, worse. It felt like the flames of hell were lapping at his arm, begging to take his hand to the Devil himself. "Help," he whispered, his voice almost shrill, too high-pitched to make a proper sound. "H-help, Master…" There was no point in calling him "Francis." He would only be punished.

To Arthur's horror, Francis didn't even react. He just stood in the doorway to the kitchen, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall casually with his black cloak hanging around his shoulders seeming all the more ominous. His sapphire eyes glittered like diamonds in the moonlight—cold, hard, mysterious. He made no move at all to help his pet.

"Master," Arthur begged, finding his proper voice. "I'm… I'm going to bleed to death! Please-!"

"Why?" Francis's voice was surprisingly harsh. Arthur nearly flinched at the sound of it. "Why the hell should I help you?"

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and shivered as warm blood was poured over his legs and knees, forming puddles around his shins and feet. "No, don't play that game, please…" _Just help me! You don't need a fucking reason! Just do it!_

Francis kept his mouth in a firm, straight line, his lips pressed tightly together before he spoke again. "You were trying to kill yourself, weren't you, Arthur? Why should I help you if you clearly want to die?" To Arthur's surprise, there was no amusement in his tone like he would have expected. There was only ice.

Arthur groaned and bent over, holding his head above his wrist and his wrist below his face. Sweat was rolling down his cheek and mixing with salty tears. Why wouldn't the pain stop? "I didn't think…" he wheezed. "…that it would be this painful…"

He closed his eyes, and to his relief, heard footsteps walking over to him. Good, Francis was going to help hi—

A rough, cold hand jerked up Arthur by his shirt collar, and Arthur opened his eyes to stare into those blue, ice-cold depths. "You fool," Francis growled, not a hint of sympathy entering his voice. "If you're going to kill yourself like that, you should be prepared to face the consequences."

Arthur nodded pitifully, averting his gaze from the vampire. He didn't want to look at his master anymore. "At least let me die in peace, then…" he mumbled.

"Let you die?" Francis chuckled softly. "_Non_, I don't think I'll do that. Come with me, Arthur. The gash isn't going to heal itself."

Arthur blinked. Francis was going to help him? No, this couldn't be right. He was acting quite angry with him not even a minute ago, and now he was offering to help heal him? Was Francis even being serious? Arthur didn't budge from his place on the bloodied ground. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered.

Francis started to head for the doorway. "I guess you don't want to move… Wait right here, I'll bring down the first-aid kit. I won't be long. Do you want me to send Elizabeta or Lovino down to help?"

"What…" Arthur breathed. "What the hell…"

Francis had already disappeared through the door. Arthur sighed and looked down at his almost cut-through wrist. The blood was coming out less quickly now, to his relief, but he didn't really care about that. What was Francis doing, suddenly switching his mood like that? It was unnatural, and Arthur had no way of telling whether he was lying or not.

"Here…"

Arthur barely noticed Francis reenter the room with the first-aid kit, settling beside Arthur and gently lifting his wrist. Arthur nearly resisted, and he would have too, if his life wasn't bleeding out. Francis lifted Arthur's arm to his mouth and slowly lapped at the blood, causing Arthur to let out a small cry of pain as the vampire's tongue passed over the wound. Francis didn't even glance up. He just kept on licking until most of the blood was gone. After that, he swiped his tongue around his lips to clean them and reached into the metal box that held the supplies, taking out some white gauze bandages. He proceeded to wrap those around Arthur's wrist, taking his time. Arthur watched in silence until he gathered the courage to murmur, "Why are you helping me now?"

"Why?" Francis repeated calmly, still wrapping up the wound. "Why do you think? You're my pet and I have to take care of you."

"I mean," Arthur began. "Why were you so angry with me before, if you were just going to help me? You acted like you were going to just let me die."

Francis finished wrapping the injury and used some pins to keep the ends held down. "I would never let you die. But I was mad at you. I still am."

Arthur swallowed. "You… you claim to l-love me," he stammered, his voice shaking. "B-but you do all of this to me. You torture me. You purposely frighten and threaten me. You hurt me. How can you love someone if you do all that to them?" He almost didn't want to continue as he felt Francis's sapphire eyes flash at his words. "D-did you do this to Jeanne? Is this how she was treated?"

Francis's whole body went rigid. He stared at Arthur, even if it was a bit more of a glare. "What do you know," he growled. "About my love for you?"

The young man felt his face turn warm and red. "I-I'm sorry—"

"What are you apologizing for?" Francis snapped. "Do you know what?" The volume of his voice grew and became more dangerous. "I never treated Jeanne this way. I treated her with upmost respect. I gave her everything I could. And what happened? What happened?" Francis's voice became ice-cold. "She left. She left and I never saw her again."

_You mean she died._ Arthur didn't say that part out loud.

"So you see, Arthur," Francis continued. "I can't treat you like I did her. You'll leave me too. You're too precious to lose. I won't let you go, Arthur."

Arthur looked away. From what he understood, Francis was having some odd delusion that if he tortured Arthur enough, he would never leave him. This was quite disturbing.

"And what do you do?" Francis's tone of voice turned bitter. "You try and leave me." Arthur winced, stung by Francis's words. He _had_ tried to commit suicide without even considering Francis's feelings. Now he just felt sorry. Francis's lips curled up in a crude imitation of a smile, his sharp fangs showing from behind his pale pink lips. "I'm wondering if you should be punished for that, but then again, what you just suffered through may be enough…"

Arthur sighed with relief.

"…Then again…" Francis shrugged. "I'll see you in the basement tomorrow, pet."

The young man cringed and nodded. "Yes, Master."

Francis pointed to the blood-covered kitchen floor. "Start cleaning up. I'll be in the library." With that, he turned, leaving Arthur kneeling on the floor, staring at his bandaged wrist.

Arthur ran his fingers over the soft gauze, shivering slightly. It made him feel strange, thinking about the damage that he had caused to his own arm. He had nearly severed his hand, and it hurt tremendously at the moment, but he was hardly paying any attention to the pain. All he could think about was Francis. As much as he hated to have the vampire on his thoughts when he wasn't imagining how wonderful it would be if he had died, he couldn't help the thoughts flowing into his mind. Francis acted so much like he cared at times, but at other times he only caused pain to Arthur, physically beating him and robbing him of his old life. It couldn't be possible to love anyone who would do such things.

No matter how much Arthur pitied him for having such a harsh and lonely life, he would never truly love him.

Right?

* * *

><p>Date: June 16, 1980.<p>

In the beginning, everything was perfect. I had Arthur, I would punish him when he disobeyed, and he was slowly growing more and more obedient to me. However, now I realize that Arthur is truly unhappy if he wanted to end his own life, so much that he would actually use a knife to slash his wrist. I almost feel bad when I tell him that he'll be punished. He's suffered so much and it would be cruel to torture him further.

But I'm a vampire. I can be cruel. If I don't discipline him, Jeanne, he won't stay mine forever. He has to stay with me. And when the time comes, perhaps I can join you in our own perfect heaven.

* * *

><p><strong>UGH! Okay, that's enough writing for now... maybe I'll get some more done in math class tomorrow. But this stuff is starting to kill me, seriously... And I am sorry that it took so long to update. :( Not enough ideas<strong>

**Ooh, Francis's diary. Let's read that.**  
><strong>If you've noticed, he's basically writing letters to Jeanne. Even though she's dead. He's delusional or something. Bipolar delusional vampire... Hm...<strong>

**Sorry for sending Alfred away again ^^; He's not coming back (neither is Iggy... omg spoiler). I'm hoping to wrap up the story soon, though. Sad ending, hopefully no tears. And hopefully no tears for this chapter, either. I didn't think that it was horribly depressing myself, but I'm totally not sensitive to bad things happening to my favourite characters.**

**With THAT out of the way...**

**...I don't have much else to say. Thank you ALL for your 100 reviews! You're all very nice, and please, I encourage you to leave reviews! I prefer one review to a favourite + alert + fav author + author alert all combined. **

**~G**


	11. Truths and Marks of Love

Francis shook his head slightly from side to side, his blond hair that he had tied back with a blue ribbon moving along with it. He opened up the old cookbook that rested on the bookshelf, sliding the thin, paper booklet that he used as a diary into the pocket on the inside cover.

With a small sigh, the vampire sunk down into a comfortable leather chair, holding his head in one pale, slender hand and staring at the ground. No, he didn't have a headache, but how he wished that he did so that he would be distracted from his own thoughts.

Francis had lived for hundreds of years. He was old and had acquired much knowledge over his lifetime, whether he had wanted to know the things that he knew or not. He had witnessed death, and had caused it himself. He had felt love, heartbreak, and despair. He had obtained many enemies and watched their demise, which was sometimes at his own hands.

But he had never felt this way before. He was in love with Arthur Kirkland, and now he wasn't even afraid to admit it. And after all of his displays of affection and kindness to the human; letting him live when they had first met, allowing his cousin and kitten to leave with their lives, sparing Arthur from the worst of the tortures that he had originally planned for him. And what did he do? He tried to kill himself, preferring to bleed his life out through a slash on his wrist rather than live the way he did any longer. What kinds of feelings was Arthur harboring beneath his outer shell? Wasn't he happy that he was allowed to live as a human and not as an immortal vampire—or in his grave? Couldn't he just be satisfied that his kitten was safe, his cousin was safe, and someone would be there to protect him and love him for the rest of his life?

_Can't he love me back?_

* * *

><p>Arthur wiped up the last few splotches of blood with his good hand, smiling proudly as his accomplishment of cleaning up the kitchen floor until it was spotless. It hadn't been easy, but he was finally done cleaning. As he piled the several dirty, bloody rags in his arms to throw away, he found that to his surprise, Elizabeta was standing in the doorway with a horrified look in her jade eyes.<p>

"What… is all that blood?" she whispered her voice hoarse. "Arthur… did Francis hurt you?"

Arthur only smiled bitterly at her. He didn't want to be rude but he couldn't help himself. "Did Francis hurt me? No."

Elizabeta didn't move from her place. "Who?" she demanded sharply. "Who hurt you? Oh, God…" Her face paled as her eyes traveled downwards. "Arthur, your wrist… Who would do such a thing to you?"

"Who?" Arthur smirked coldly. "Me."

"You?" Elizabeta repeated in disbelief. "You…" Her expression changed to one of sympathy, pity. "You cut your own wrist?"

Arthur nodded, the cocky smile disappearing from his face. "Yes, that's right."

"Why would you do that?" Swiftly, Elizabeta moved closer, staring up into Arthur's face with those sympathetic eyes.

Arthur couldn't stop the sharp tone in his voice. He wasn't exactly in the best mood, either. "Why the hell do you think?" he snapped. "I was sick of living like this with that damned vampire in his God-forsaken house! Of course I'm going to try and get away from it all—the torture, the humiliation, the complete and utter lack of free will! You can't expect someone like me to live in his hell!"

Elizabeta looked down, biting her lip. "Arthur," she murmured. "I understand—"

"Understand what?" Arthur interrupted rudely. "Understand what I'm going through? No, you don't! Your 'master' doesn't do to you what Francis has done to me!"

The young woman finally lost her temper. She balled her hands up into tight fists and stood on her tiptoes as if trying to make herself feel bigger than the other. "If that's how you're going to respond to my attempt to help you," she snarled. "Fine! Be that way! It's not like I actually cared that you tried to kill yourself anyways!"

Arthur glared at her as she spun around on her heel and stormed out of them kitchen, but the instant that her footsteps had faded away, his face fell and he stared at the ground guiltily. He really hadn't meant to lash out at her like that. He would just apologize later. He adjusted his grip on the bloody rags in his arms and simply walked over to the trashcan and dumped them in there, rubbing his eyes before starting upstairs to meet with Francis again.

Francis, sure enough, was in the library, reading a book in a leather chair. He held it with one hand and turned each page with the other, looking quite dignified in doing so. When Arthur entered, he glanced up and smiled warmly. "Ah, _mon cher…_ Come in and sit down. I want to discuss something with you."

Arthur did so, taking a seat across from Francis with a small glance to the book that the vampire had just set down on the glass table beside him. He tried not to grimace when he realized that it was one of Francis's erotic novels.

"Arthur." Francis addressed softly. "Why exactly did you do it? Why did you try to kill yourself while I wasn't home?"

Arthur grit his teeth. Elizabeta had just asked him the same exact question. "I-I…" He started to speak, but couldn't find the right words. He couldn't lash out like he did with Elizabeta or else he would be punished. "I just… I…"

"You can tell me." Francis's head tilted to one side ever so slightly, eyes shining. The look was oddly comforting.

"I just… wanted to escape this," Arthur managed to utter before falling silent again.

Francis hesitated to respond. "Then tell me," he murmured. "What is it that repels you from me?"

Arthur's eyes snapped up to the vampire, his mind swirling with quickly forming thoughts. "I-it's not that you r-repel me," he stammered. "It's what you've done to me."

"I've let you live. I've let your cousin and your cat live," Francis stated calmly in retaliation.

"You torture me and you took away my old style of life only to replace it with this humiliating 'Master and Pet' scenario," Arthur replied simply. "You violate me and prevent me from loving who I want and going where I want and speaking my mind to you."

Francis raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You're speaking your mind now, _mon amour_."

Arthur shivered at the French words. The translation was clear. "You're giving me permission to do so."

"That's a good point," Francis said with a nod, reclining back in the chair and staring up at the ceiling. "So you don't like living here because of the lifestyle and torture, hm?" he murmured. "So nothing actually repels you from me?"

The young man thought for a moment. "You are cruel, sadistic, and your emotions change quickly," he said softly. "If you would count those…"

Francis nodded again, hardly reacting. He seemed very calm, as if he didn't really care what Arthur was saying. And, for the few moments that he seemed to be lost in thought, his sapphire eyes sparkled as he bobbed one foot up and down. "I guess…" he whispered. "If you do count those as factors for disliking me, then you really don't want to be anywhere near me right now?"

"No, Master."

Francis raised an eyebrow at Arthur's answer but his calm expression remained. "I assume that you're not looking forward to later this evening."

"No, Master."

"I see." Francis brushed his blond hair from his eyes and sighed before turning his gaze directly on Arthur, suddenly intense. "I will not make you do it if you do not want to."

Arthur glanced up at the vampire. There was no way in hell that he was serious…

To his surprise, there wasn't even a flicker of amusement in Francis's eyes.

Holy shit, he wasn't lying.

Arthur shook his head in disbelief. No, this was just a cruel joke, and Francis was a really good actor. Either that or the blood loss was making him delusional, and Francis was just telling him that they were going to have sex that night whether Arthur wanted to or not.

"Could…" Arthur began attentively. "Could you repeat that, please?"

Francis smiled, a small laugh escaping his pale lips. "I said, you don't have to do it if you don't want to. I know, it's odd to you that I'm giving you a free choice about something. But…" He suddenly rose to his feet, even if his movements were quite slow and leisurely. "Like many good things in life, there is a catch." Francis began to move slowly to Arthur, taking slow, careful steps up to the chair that the human was sitting in.

Arthur bit his lip nervously as the vampire advanced on him, flinching as something was brought up to his face.

And dropped onto his lap.

Sensing no danger, Arthur opened his eyes and stared down at what Francis had given to him.

It was the bloody knife that he had used to cut his wrist with.

"Vertically."

Arthur withdrew his gaze from the knife and looked up at Francis.

"You have to cut your wrist vertically if you're going to commit suicide that way," Francis explained. "That's one of your choices. If you kill yourself, then you won't have to have sex with me and you won't have to be punished for your attempt earlier." He paused and licked his lips. "I won't stop you if you use the knife to kill me, either."

Arthur let out a shuddering exhale of the breath that he just realized that he had been holding with the suspense of having the weapon in his lap like it was a cute little bunny. He stared at Francis, blinking at him as if unable to comprehend what he was saying. But at last, he managed to say, "You won't stop me?"

Francis shook his head. "_Non_. I won't stop you and you can kill me. It's what you've wanted since you first came here, right? I'll die and you can move back to your house, forgetting that any of this ever happened. But if you don't kill either you or me, then you will be punished for your earlier actions and yes, you and I will still sleep together. So make your choice."

With great delicacy and care, Arthur picked up the knife, slowly twirling the handle around in his hands while staring at the bloody blade and thinking. Francis wouldn't stop him if he tried to kill him, and he wasn't lying. He could kill himself, too, and he might succeed this time.

He handed the knife back to Francis, a defiant gleam sparkling in his emerald eyes. Francis took it, only a hint of surprise on his face. Arthur's lips curled up in a bold smirk. He wasn't going to run. He wasn't a weak-willed girl with no guts. "Killing an enemy that won't defend himself is a coward's way out," he sneered. "And taking my own life isn't worth it. I think I'll suffer through my punishment like a man." The truth was, in Arthur's head, that he just didn't want to die himself and just the thought of Francis made him shudder. Partly because he was so human at times instead of the beast that he was, and partly because…

Francis smiled and set the knife down on the table next to his book. "That's a wonderful choice, Arthur," he replied. "I think Elizabeta is cooking dinner right now… I can smell it from here. Why don't you go downstairs and eat before you come to the basement?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, Master." There was no sarcasm in his voice now. Only pride.

* * *

><p>To Arthur's surprise, Elizabeta wasn't in the kitchen—Lovino was, cooking pasta at the stove and humming a little tune. Arthur silently came up behind him and murmured, "That smells good."<p>

"HOLY FUCKING JESUS CHRIST!" Lovino leapt about three feet in the air and spun around, the little haywire curl of hair appearing to stand straight up. Arthur jumped back, eyes wide. Lovino covered his copper eyes with one hand, and Arthur noticed that his face was bright red. "Jesus…" he muttered. "You fucking scared me, you bastard! Don't creep up behind me like that! Mother fucking…"

Arthur didn't really know how to respond, but Lovino just turned back to continue stirring the pasta in the pot of boiling water. He waited a few moments before posing a question. "Do you know where Elizabeta is?"

Lovino shrugged. "In her room," he said. "Crying."

"Crying?" Arthur echoed. Oh, God. Was it his fault for the argument that they had earlier? Suddenly, he felt sick to his stomach. "Do you… Do you know why?"

The Italian shrugged again. "Don't know, don't really give a shit. Go find out for yourself but don't take too long. The pasta will be done soon."

Arthur nodded politely. "I won't be long."

Quickly, he dashed away, taking the stairs two at a time in an attempt to make it up to Elizabeta's room as fast as he could. Quietly, he pressed his left ear up to the door, listening to a woman's quiet sobs. There was another noise, too… someone else was in there? Arthur listened closer and realized that it was Gilbert. "Shush, Eliza… He… He just didn't know… He probably thought that you were dead, so that's why… I'll bet that he still loves you, and wanted that same comfort…"

"You mean he replaced me," Elizabeta said with a small hiccup. "He replaced me with some woman… and he… he…" She broke into loud sobs, and Arthur heard the sound of Gilbert patting her on the back.

"There, there… just calm down, Liza… Ssh…"

Arthur pulled away from the door, frowning. Who were they talking about? He raised his hand and knocked lightly on the door.

"Francis, I swear, if that's you…" Gilbert's voice was threatening.

"It's Arthur," Arthur said quickly. "Is it okay if I come in?"

"Yes." Elizabeta replied to Arthur that time. "Y-you can come in, Arthur."

Slowly, Arthur turned the handle and opened up the door, closing it behind him and turning to Elizabeta and Gilbert. They were both sitting on the bed, Gilbert having one hand on the girl's back. Arthur bit his lip. Elizabeta's cheeks were tear-stained. The albino vampire glanced up at Arthur, and he didn't look very happy. Without a word, he picked up what appeared to be a folded newspaper and tossed it at Arthur, who quickly reacted and caught it, turning it over to the front page to read the headline.

**Aristocrat Roderich Edelstein Weds Austrian Royal Maria on June 13**

Arthur slowly walked over to Gilbert and Elizabeta and silently handed the newspaper back. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Do you… do you want me to leave now and leave you two alone?"

"No…" Elizabeta mumbled. "Please don't leave, Arthur." Suddenly, she moved and fell into a very surprised Arthur, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder, sobbing again. Slightly confused as to why Elizabeta suddenly choose him to be comforted on, he glanced up to Gilbert. The vampire returned the stare with a look that said, "I don't know, but she'll stop soon."

Sure enough, Elizabeta stopped crying after a few minutes and looked up at Arthur with wide, tearful eyes. "Oh, Arthur…" she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. "He really doesn't care about me anymore. He just replaced me with another woman and now I can never go back to him… He's probably forgotten about me, too."

"He hasn't replaced you, Eliza," Arthur said softly, hugging the young woman a little. "And I think that we both know that there's no way that he could have forgotten you. You… are unforgettable." He kissed her forehead tenderly to help calm her down. "If you went back to him now, he would still remember you, I promise. And he wouldn't hate you or anything. You were married, and he loved you. Ssh… stop crying now…"

Elizabeta hiccupped and sniffled. "I think he did forget about me."

"No, he didn't," Arthur assured her, only hoping that he was actually right. "He still loves you."

Elizabeta wiped her eyes and shook her head. "He doesn't love me anymore."

"Yes, he does." Arthur began to gently rock her back and forth as if she were a child. "Take deep breaths, Eliza. Just calm down…"

After a while, Arthur realized that Elizabeta was actually falling asleep. Her breathing became more steady and she stopped making whimpering noises. Gilbert leaned over and poked her. "She's out for the night," he declared. "Good job for putting her to sleep, man. I was worried that she would be up all night bothering me about her remarried husband and shit."

Arthur smiled and gently laid Elizabeta down on the bed, resting her head on the pillow. "I wonder how long it will take for her to get over it?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Dunno. Probably a while, because she's always talking about him. And you. She always talks about you."

Arthur felt his face grow warm, and he immediately looked away from the albino vampire in embarrassment. "W-well… Uh… I'm the only other human besides… besides Lovino, and…"

"Ah, don't be like that, kid." Gilbert grinned and patted Arthur on the back (a little harder than he would have liked, but he didn't complain). "I think we all know that Liza likes you. Everyone does, pro'lly. Her, Francis, Toni…" Arthur's cheeks only grew warmer at Gilbert's comment. He stood up suddenly.

"I-I think I'll be leaving now," he mumbled. "Shall I ask Lovino to save Elizabeta some dinner?"

"That would be awesome, man, thanks." Gilbert grinned and flashed Arthur a thumbs up sign as the young man hurried out of the room, scratching the bridge of his nose self-consciously as he tried to hide his blushing face from anyone he passed by on his way to the kitchen.

Lovino handed Arthur a plate of pasta as the blond sat down at the dining room table. "Here," he grumbled. "You're kind of fucking late."

"I'm sorry," Arthur apologized. "II have a favor to ask you, Lovino. Can you save some pasta for Elizabeta? She, ah… fell asleep."

The dark-haired Italian shrugged. "Sure, why not. Just eat your fucking pasta."

Arthur complied without a word.

* * *

><p>"Pet," Francis greeted calmly at the end of the basement stairs, his eyes glittering like gems. "Welcome. I hope that you're well-prepared for what will come."<p>

Arthur swallowed nervously, managing a small nod to his master. He hid his clenched and trembling fists from the vampire, praying that the immense fear that he felt wouldn't show on his face. He was frightened, definitely. He had no idea what his punishment would be this time, but with Francis's eyes sparkling like diamonds in moonlight, he was almost sure that it would be horrible, much like his first time being whipped. "I-I'm ready, Master," he stammered quietly. "B-but… will you tell me what y-you're going to do to me?"

Francis smirked. "You don't have the right to ask such a thing of me and I have the right to refuse to answer." As he saw Arthur's face fall with disappointment, a small chuckle escaped his lips. "Pet, you know that those have been the standards since you first came here."

The frightened young man nodded obediently but timidly, his shoulders lifting up unconsciously while he stared at the ground. Why on Earth was he so frightened of this man? He rarely felt this way before. His heart was racing, the blood was pounding in his head and he could hardly hear his own heavy breathing…

"Scared?" Francis guessed suddenly, leaning down and gently kissing the human's forehead. Arthur shrank back from the other's touch, hardly in the mood to put up with Francis's games tonight. All he wanted was to get this punishment over with so he could go to sleep—oh, wait. He wasn't going to sleep tonight if Francis continued with his plans for the two of them. Shit.

"There's no need to be so shy," the vampire said with a smile, patting Arthur's shoulder lightly. "In fact, I suggest that you open up yourself more to me so that your life will be much easier."

"Y-yes, Master," Arthur whispered. He let Francis lead him away from the stairs and into the torture chamber, When Francis motioned to the wooden table with the leather straps to secure his limbs, Arthur simply walked over and took a seat on it, awaiting his next instructions.

Francis came right in front of Arthur, looking down at him with suddenly serious eyes. "Arthur," he said. "I need you to understand that this is your punishment. You may not get out of it in any way whatsoever, unlike last time. And this is all for…" He paused and licked his lips as if anxious. "…for your own good. You have to be obedient to me and punishing your wrong behaviors, I hope, will ensure that you will not continue to act foolishly." He leaned in closer, his breath warm on Arthur's face. "I hope that this will teach you not to try and leave me ever again."

Arthur swallowed and glanced at his bandaged wrist. It still hurt him. But why couldn't that be enough of a reminder not to try and hurt himself again? He knew better now. Bleeding himself out wasn't worth the agony.

Francis made a small motion with his hand. "Lie down on your front, _mon cher_. Don't move from there."

His body shaking, Arthur complied, letting Francis move his wrists and ankles into the leather straps before securing them tightly. Next, the shirt that he was wearing was split down the back with sharp fingernails, exposing his back. Then, there were footsteps. With his face pressed to the wood, Arthur couldn't see where Francis was going, but he knew he was going to the weapons cabinet. Where else?

Arthur heard a few small clicks and a soft voice whisper, "Try and relax yourself as much as you can, _mon lapin_. Breathe deeply. It's okay if you try and fall asleep, too. All I want you to do is relax."

Arthur forced a few deep breaths through his mouth, doing his best to unwind his muscles that were stiff with fear. It took him a while but at last, he found it easy to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth, almost forgetting that he was strapped down to the table.

"Alright, love… This is going to hurt… I promise, though, it will be over soon." Francis's slender hand and fingers ran through Arthur's ashen blond hair tenderly. "Bear with me. I promise… Relax…" A sweet kiss was planted on his shoulder. "Please… now…"

There was a feeling somewhere inside Arthur that told him to flee from whatever was coming, and then came the fire. It burned his back, right on his shoulder blade, making him feel like there was a forest fire blazing on his flesh as something was pressed into his flesh and slowly rocked back and forth as if to imprint in his skin. Arthur bit his tongue to force himself to refrain from screaming. However, when the pain became agonizing and he accidently drew blood, he let go and uttered a blood-curdling shriek that he didn't even think a human could make. He arched his back, contorting it in several different positions before giving up and laying flat on the wooden table, breath coming out in heavy gasps.

"Hush, pet… Hush…" Francis's voice was gentle compared to Arthur's harsh and trembling gasps of air. "Ssh… I'm done. It's over. The pain won't last long, I promise. Hush…"

Arthur moaned as the vampire undid the leather straps and hoisted him to his feet. He let out a sharp cry as his back suddenly began to sting with fresh pain. "What did you do to me?" he exclaimed, his voice cracking in the middle of his sentence. "It hurts…"

"Hush…" Francis brushed Arthur's hair from his eyes and held him close to his cold body. "Calm down, Arthur, pet, _mon petit lapin, mon amour…_ It's over now… Calm down, _s'il vous plait…"_

Arthur reached up and clung to Francis's shoulders, his fingernails digging in past his clothes. "What… what did you do to me?"

"I marked you again… Oh, Arthur, calm yourself, love…" Francis pulled Arthur in tighter. The human took this moment to bury his face into Francis's clothes and dry the small teardrops welling up in his eyes while he listened to the vampire's calming words in that smooth, warm voice. "I marked you with a brand…I know that it hurts, pet, since you were burned… It will be there forever and marks that you're mine, so you'll never leave me… Calm… calm…"

At this point, part of Arthur wanted to pull away from Francis but the other part didn't. He wanted to stay in those open and comforting arms until the pain had gone. He wanted to stay there forever…

Before Arthur could comprehend what was going on, he was sitting on the toilet seat in the bathroom facing away from Francis as the blond vampire pressed an ice pack wrapped in a towel to the burning injury on his back. He sighed with relief as the coldness spread through the overheated area of his skin, easing the pain as well. It felt so much better than before now. Francis removed the ice pack and gently turned Arthur's shoulders so that they were face-to-face, Arthur sitting and Francis kneeling beside him with a hint of a smile on his face.

"I want you to understand, pet," Francis said softly. "I'm only doing this because I love you. I want you to be mine forever."

"And I'm sure that's exactly why you hurt me like this," Arthur retorted sarcastically. Francis raised one eyebrow and frowned slightly.

"Would you like to rephrase that, pet, so it doesn't sound so rude?" he questioned, a hint of aggravation creeping into his voice.

Arthur swallowed as he realized that given his current state, now was not the time to mess with Francis. He bowed his head down quickly and murmured, "I'm sorry, Master. I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it, _mon cher?_" Francis leaned in closer to his pet and ran his slender fingers through the short blond hair. "Go on, I'm listening."

Arthur resisted the urge to glare at Francis. The bastard was just trying to make him uncomfortable and give him another excuse to punish him. "I-I meant it like, t-this is an odd way of showing your affection," Arthur said at last, hoping that his word choice would please Francis. "U-usually if two people love each other, they kiss and do things together—" Arthur couldn't have stopped talking soon enough once he realized what he was doing, as a hungry gleam in Francis's eyes was growing.

"You have a point there," Francis said, nodding his head slightly and smiling. "Couples should kiss and sleep together and pleasure themselves with each other's bodies… _oui?_" His pointy teeth showed as he flashed a brilliant smile to Arthur. "Don't worry, love. We'll get to that point soon enough. For now, I just want you to turn around so I can apply the ice for a bit longer."

The young man acquiesced with silence, thankful that he no longer had to stare into those warm, sapphire eyes.

Soon, Francis removed the ice pack, reaching up with both hands and slowly massaging the human's back. "Does it feel better now?" he asked softly, forcing Arthur to suppress a shiver as he kissed his shoulder blades tenderly. The young blond didn't reply, so Francis continued. "I know how much you probably hate me right now," the vampire murmured, trailing one ice-cold finger down the length of Arthur's arm and swirling it around in circles on the back of his hand. "I can imagine that it's taking all your willpower not to jump on me and wrap your hands around my throat to choke me to death. Although, that method would not work, for I am already dead…" Still behind Arthur, Francis draped both of his arms around Arthur's neck and embraced him, tilting his own head up to whisper in the other's ear. "…Or maybe you can't asphyxiate me because your angelic beauty leaves me breathless…"

Arthur's breath hitched in his throat and he felt his face grow extremely warm. _Please let go of me and stop talking… Please let go of me and stop talking… Please let go…_

To his disappointment, Francis did not let go. He only snuggled up closer. "I love you so much, Arthur," he purred, kissing Arthur's earlobe. Arthur cringed slightly. "You are my precious one. You are the most beautiful human I've come across in hundreds of years. I just can't help loving you…"

Arthur was almost mad at Francis now. Sure, he was mad at him before for punishing and torturing him for everything he did, but this was different. Francis acted like he loved him, but what kind of sick freak was so bipolar about love like this? One minute he was angry and beating his "love" with a nine-tailed whip and the next he was cuddling up to him in bed. It didn't make any sense to Arthur. However, he knew better than to ask why or request that he stopped. Any questions to Francis about his love for him would only end up with more torture.

While Francis was kissing Arthur's neck and cheeks, Arthur glanced down at his bandaged wrist. Deep red stains covered the once white bandages, but it didn't hurt much anymore and he hadn't been paying attention much. After all, the burn on his back was hurting MUCH more. To his understanding, Francis had just taken a metal piece, bent it into shape (which couldn't have been difficult with his inhuman strength) and heated it up with a match or something of the sort. It was then pressed into the skin on his back, burning and scarring him for the rest of his life with some sort of symbol or word. Unfortunately, he had no idea what it was on his back.

"Master," Arthur finally dared to say. "What sort of mark did you put on me, pray tell?"

Francis made a small, odd breathy noise that imitated laughter. "It's a rose, of course, love. It looks different than the one carved into your chest, though, so there's no need to worry about duplicate roses being stamped onto your skin all over your body. _Non,_ that would just look bad. I like to switch things up a little, see?" He chuckled and gently nipped at Arthur's ear, and even though it didn't hurt, Arthur let out a small yelp of surprise and flinched.

The vampire reached up and slowly turned Arthur around by his shoulders, a smile stretched across the face that was too young for someone of his age. His blue eyes twinkled in the golden white light of the lights that were above the bathroom mirror. "Arthur," he said sweetly, quietly. "Can you tell me something, _mon amour?_"

"Y-yes, what is i-it?" Arthur's words came out broken with stammers as he gazed into Francis's heavenly, gorgeous sapphire eyes. This kind of fear that he was feeling now was so much different than what he had felt before. He was almost shy at the face of this man now, seeing the look of tender love in his eyes.

Francis placed one hand on the top of Arthur's arm, gazing up at him. "Can you tell me you love me?"

* * *

><p><strong>FREE CHEESE FOR ALL it's a cheesy chapter ending.<strong>  
><strong>The next one is very short and VERY CHEESY. <strong>  
><strong>Just a warning.<strong>

**And I shall now answer questions that you guys have asked a lot.**  
><em><strong>1) Will Ivan (Russia) come in? Will Matthew (Canada)?<strong>_  
><em><strong>Answer: No. Neither. <strong>_

_**2) Why can't Francis just love Arthur normally?**_  
><em><strong>Answer: In the chapter above. Francis sees things differently and has the delusion that Arthur will stay with him forever if he forces him to<strong>_

_**3) if someone dies, then i'll rape ur ass.**_  
><em><strong>Answer: Too bad. Yes, I am talking directly to you, FRUKXUSUK from DeviantART. I'll end my story the way that I know how and if you're not okay with that, don't read it :D<strong>_

_**4) When will the story end?**_  
><em><strong>Answer: About 5 or less chapters from now.<strong>_

_**5) Francis is out of character.**_

_**Answer: YOU DON'T SAY? I write my stories the way I want. Don't like? Don't read. Please, I urge you.**_

**~G**

**((The power went out for a few seconds and now the rain is starting to freak me out. Thankfully we don't get hurricanes up here, though. And holy crap, it's SPRING. It should NOT BE RAINING AND WIND-ING THIS HARD.))**


	12. Reconsideration

Arthur, shocked at Francis's words, jerked his shoulder back suddenly and stared in disbelief. _Can you tell me you love me?_

No, he couldn't. That was impossible to say it, even if he was lying about it. This man, this _monster,_ tortured him until he begged for death and even tried to take his own life, in a very painful way, at that. He had taken away everything precious to him. He had nearly killed his only family member.

And now he asked for love.

This was ridiculous.

This was intolerable.

This creature, who had captured Arthur and humiliated him by making him his pet.

This creature, who was only using him to replace his lost love.

This creature, who probably deserved to be loved just the same as anyone else.

Arthur bit his lip and turned his head away, his face bright red. He gave the slightest shake of his head, letting his ashen blond bangs fall just above his eyes so they nearly covered them as tears welled up in their emerald depths. Francis wasn't all bad. He was a demon, yes. He killed people and he probably didn't even know that what he was doing to Arthur was horribly wrong and immoral. By his reasoning, he just wanted to keep someone at his side for as long as he could while still letting them keep a human life. He had suffered throughout his life, probably a lot, witnessing death and causing it. Francis lost his true love, Jeanne, to the hands of someone who he never would have expected to do such a thing. Of course he would hate that man. Of course he would kill him once he got the chance.

So Francis didn't mean to be horrible.

He had only gotten a taste for killing, not to mention the fact that he was a vampire and had to drink blood to survive. It wasn't his fault.

And as for the torturing, he couldn't stand to have Arthur leave his side for an instant. He needed to impose strict discipline, in his eyes, for Arthur to stay with him forever. This bastard just needed love.

Salty droplets of water splashed down the young gentleman's rosy red cheeks and onto his lap. He sniffled a little reached up, drawing the back of his hand across his eye in a failed attempt to dry them.

"O-of course I love you," Arthur choked out, finally looking up at Francis, his bottom lip quivering as he spoke. Suddenly, he flung himself forwards into Francis's arms, clinging to him with his arms around his back while he buried his face into his shoulder, welcoming the heavy weight in his chest that made it difficult to breathe as he sobbed into the vampire's shirt.

Francis smiled and after a few moments, embraced him back, closing his eyes and resting his head on the human's shoulder, as well. "Thank you, Arthur Kirkland," Francis whispered, listening to Arthur's hiccups and sobs while smiling with closed eyes as if he was listening to the most beautiful song in the world.

And he was.

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter is about 10x shorter than my other ones. Sorry about that, this was the perfect place to end.<strong>  
><strong>Also, this is the longest I've ever spent writing about a character's emotions and thoughts alone :'D Hooray for the awesome me!<strong>

**Stockholm Syndrome, yes.**  
><strong>Sort of.<strong>  
><strong>You'll find out more later :)<strong>

**~G**


	13. Corpses and Roses and Chloroform

Arthur awoke to find that Francis's cold arm was wrapped tightly around the front of his body as the human stared up at the ceiling with wide open emerald eyes. Sunlight flooded in from the gaps between the claret curtains in the front of the window. Robins chirped and a few ravens called out from outside. The noise of the birds was quite relaxing as he lay in bed.

"Good morning, pet," Arthur turned at the sound of Francis's voice to stare into gorgeous, sparkling eyes that seemed to reflect the ocean. France smiled and pulled Arthur closer to him, affectionately nuzzling the other's cheek with his own. Arthur might have been a bit more comfortable with this if the two weren't lying nude in the same bed, and he blushed and averted his eyes from the vampire's. Francis only held him tighter, though. "You know you're very cute when you sleep. I was watching you the whole time."

"That's…" Arthur paused. "Quite disconcerting, don't you think?"

Francis laughed lightly and traced Arthur's cheek with one cold finger. "I don't have much else to do when you go to sleep," he said, planting a kiss on Arthur's nose. "I'm dead. I don't sleep. So I just look at you."

Arthur's blush deepened. "I would really appreciate if you didn't," he murmured.

The vampire trailed one finger from Arthur's collarbone to his chest and continued under the blankets. "But it's while you sleep, correct? What are you going to do about it?" The finger traveled over Arthur's stomach and then further. Arthur tried to squirm away, but Francis held him tightly. He leaned in, breathing softly in Arthur's ear. "And even if I did anything to your body while you slept, what could you do?" The finger stopped right above his lower region, teasing him. "Even now, what can you do? You are my pet and you are under my control."

Arthur felt a wave of anger sweep over him. He wasn't completely under Francis's control. He didn't want to be his pet. "I'm not under your control," he protested, kicking one leg under the blankets and striking Francis on his shin. "Get your hand off of me, please…"

Francis kept it there. Damn him. "You admit to being under my control when you call me 'Master,'" he whispered mellifluously. "I am your Master. You must be fully obedient and cooperative to me and only me unless instructed otherwise."

"T-that's not what that means!" Arthur insisted. "You're making it sound like I'm your slave, damn it!" He tried again to pull away but to no avail. "It just means that I…" _I love you and I want you to love me back_. "It means that I belong to you, and that's all!"

Suddenly, Francis kissed his upper lip, probably to get him to be quiet. Arthur closed his eyes, rather enjoying it. Damn this vampire. When Francis broke the kiss, he sat up, running his fingers through his shoulder length blond hair. "A real pity, Arthur. I was hoping that you wouldn't make me punish you again for a while. Oh, well. Just for openly resisting me like that, I'm afraid I'll have to whip you."

Arthur flinched as if struck by his master's hand. "Is that so?" he mumbled weakly, his voice faltering. "Even after I say that I love you, and I willingly give you my body… You still insist on punishing me?"

"Of course," Francis purred, kissing Arthur's forehead and brushing his ash blond bangs away from his emerald eyes. "You are my pet, and I must discipline you if you refuse to follow my rules." He smiled kindly, and, glancing up, Arthur realized that his smile was very beautiful, blue eyes glittering in the sunlight. "Besides," Francis continued. "Your punishments do seem to be working. Your behavior towards me has changed nicely; you haven't even referred to me by my first name for a while. You used to do that quite a bit." He began to trail one finger from Arthur's bushy eyebrows to his rosy pink lips, placing it there gently. "But now look at you. Hardly two weeks since you first came here, and you already comfortably call me Master."

That's hardly it, Arthur thought, breaking eye contact. I don't know if I'll ever be comfortable calling you that. I just don't want to be punished… and I want you to love me.

Francis snapped his fingers and said, "Oh, right. The information for your punishment… Arthur, for openly defying me, I'm going to beat you with a special whip. I've never used it on you before. We'll take care of that after we shower and you eat your breakfast, but don't bother trying to delay the inevitable. If you dawdle too much, your punishment will be added on to." He smirked. "So don't try and have breakfast at noon, alright?"

"…Yes, Master." Arthur replied quietly, wishing he wasn't blushing so much at the thought of showering together with Francis.

With a nod, Francis stood up, heading for the closet to open it up, taking out two bathrobes. "Here," he said, tossing one to Arthur. "Wear this for now. After the shower…" He picked out an outfit consisting of a white shirt, a brown suit vest, black slacks, and a red-striped white bowtie. "You'll be wearing this."

Arthur slowly pulled the white blankets off his nude body, shivering as the cool air hit his skin. Warily, he stood up, careful not to make eye contact with the vampire as he slipped on the bathrobe.

"Come now, don't dawdle," Francis said, snapping his fingers. "I think that you would prefer to spend as little time as possible with these things. The quicker we get everything over with, the better." Obediently, Arthur followed Francis to the door, going out into the hall with him only to find Elizabeta walking to her room. She had hair mouse-brown hair tied back in a loose ponytail, and two synthetic flower clips held her long bangs out of her face. She was wearing her sun-yellow dress, which seemed to radiate in the light coming from the hallway windows, and her jade eyes were sparkling like the two rings—one of a peridot jewel and the other of emerald—on her fingers.

She stared directly at Arthur, her face red, probably embarrassed to see him so close to Francis. Without a word, she vanished into her room and closed the door behind her.

Francis gave Arthur a gentle push to get him moving again.

Once inside the bathroom, Francis closed the door behind him and started the water in the shower. The steaming hot water ran from the faucet and onto the shower tiles, which then flowed into the drain. Arthur hesitated before stepping in, and he waited a few moments to let the water dampen his hair before taking a sponge from the built in shelf to begin scrubbing his body, sticky with sweat and other fluids from the previous night. However, Francis was there in an instant, and he lifted the sponge from his pet's hands. "I'll do it," he whispered sweetly. "You can relax, _mon lapin_. I'll do all the work for you."

Arthur nodded obediently, wishing he wasn't tense as Francis gently scrubbed his stomach with the sponge. Arthur had to admit, he was struggling not to let a giggle escape his mouth. The sponge was tickling his skin.

"All clean," Francis declared, wringing out the sponge under the water and kissing Arthur's cheek tenderly. Arthur cringed a bit and blinked with surprise, but made no objection.

Arthur had never really received this kind of loving attention before. His parents died when he was still a teen, so he no longer had them to rely on for his care, and he had lived alone (recently, with his kitten) until now. No girl had ever shown interest in him, but he was never interested in girls. He was more focused on his education when he was still in school, and as an adult, all he cared about was making enough money to support himself and his cat. Now, however, he had someone to care for him and love him. Francis was in the only one in his life who had ever kissed him in that way, and acted so caring, or appeared so beautiful to him…

Maybe that was how he had fallen in love.

Francis took the shampoo bottle in his hands and squirted some of it into his open palm. "Your hair is filthy, Arthur," he scolded lightly. "You need to wash yourself on your own now, maybe every day or every other day." He began massaging it into Arthur's hair. Arthur closed his eyes and let the lathery white shampoo fall down to his shoulders to be washed away by the water into the silver drain.

"The crepes are ready~!" Francis sang out, placing a plate with two flat pancake-like things on it, complete with a side of juicy strawberries and a glass of water with ice in it. Arthur's mouth watered just looking at it. He really hadn't been eating much in the past few days, or the past week for that matter, and even though he usually didn't feel hunger, he stomach was growling now.

Refusing the instinct to just dig in and start eating ravenously, Arthur remained dignified, cutting into his food with the antique-looking silver knife that Francis had presented to him for breakfast, and he took small bites like a gentleman would, all while Francis watched.

Francis took Arthur's plate away once he was finished, kissing the top of his pet's blond head before placing the dishes in the skink. "You know," the vampire said as he came back over to Arthur and placed his hands on his shoulders from behind, gently massaging them while Arthur relaxed a bit. "I.." Francis leaned in closer. "…am quite hungry after watching you eat." One slender, cold hand brushed ashen blond hair away from the side of Arthur's neck. "I think I'll grab a bite before we go downstairs."

Arthur sighed quietly, tilting his head to the side to give his master a better angle at his neck. There was just no point in resisting. Besides, if it made his master happy to have his blood, that's what he would give him.

Francis waited a moment to bite, seeming to be searching for the perfect spot to sink his fangs into before actually doing so. The pain was quick and short lived, because Francis pulled out in just a few seconds. He licked the blood from his sharp, gleaming white teeth before gently pulling Arthur from his chair.

Upon arriving in the basement, Arthur couldn't hold back the cry that escaped him at the sight before them.

There, chained up in a corner of the torture room, was a decaying corpse, its appearance horribly disfigured as its flesh, a disgusting green color, clung to white bones and hung there. His, or her eyes, had already decayed, leaving disgusting eye sockets where they once were. Flies buzzed around the horrific thing, crawling in and out of its orifices; the mouth, eye sockets, nose, and ears. The corpse was stained with dried, dark-colored blood, and some of the bones even had cuts in them, a few of them broken. The whole thing reeked of death.

Arthur raised a hand to his mouth, averting his eyes from the thing. He swallowed back vomit and whispered, his voice hoarse, "What in the hell is that abomination?"

The vampire didn't even seem to care that there was a rotting corpse in his basement. He seemed completely calm. "Oh, those are just some leftovers," he said nonchalantly. "I was going to clean them up, but I guess it would be too late now. I wouldn't want that stench on my hands. Ah, well. See if you can just ignore it—" He broke off when he realized that Arthur was backing away to the stairs.

"If I stay a moment longer," the young man whispered, hand still covering his mouth. "Then I will undoubtedly fall ill." With that, he dashed to the nearest bathroom to be sick.

"Arthur," Francis said gently, softly knocking on the door. Arthur glanced up from where he sat on the toilet seat, but his face remained mostly covered by his hand, emerald eyes glowing with a dull light. "Arthur, mon cher, I'm coming in." The knob turned and francis opened the door slowly, kneeling beside his pet and tenderly placing his cold hand on Arthur's. "I hope you know that your punishment has not been suspended."

Arthur nodded silently.

The icy hand moved up to Arthur's face, pulling the human's fingers away to reveal his pet's full face. "Obviously, we won't do it in the basement. We'll have to go outside, but it might rain soon."

Arthur nodded again. Francis tilted his head to the side slightly and began to caress Arthur's cheek with gentle fingers. "You really didn't like seeing the body downstairs, did you?" he asked. Still unwilling to speak, Arthur shook his head. "I promise you won't ever see that again," Francis assured him caringly. "But do you think you can talk to me now?"

"Yes, Master," Arthur murmured.

"Alright, then." Francis kissed the tip of Arthur's nose. "Go outside, just around the house into the backyard. I'll get the instrument while you wait for me there." He helped Arthur to his feet and walked with him until they reached the front door, where Francis turned to go back down to the basement. Arthur stepped outside by himself, following Francis's instructions and going around the house. He had never been in the backyard before, and to his amazement, what stood before him was a lush, beautiful garden.

To his left were roses; red, yellow, white, multi-colored, and even black ones. It was the darkest flowers that intrigued him the most. He approached them, cupping a sable blossom in one hand, admiring its beauty.

It felt like a regular rose, and as he leaned over to inhale its scent, it smelt normal. However, he noticed that it had no thorns. Arthur again swept his gaze over the magnificent garden, seeing lilies and irises just as lovely as the roses. Between the plants sat birdbaths and stone garden decorations, adding to the allure of the mansion's backyard. He just couldn't get it through his head that Francis might have done all of this himself—he must have hired a professional, or maybe several of them to create a landscape like this.

He took another glance to the roses. As much as he loved roses, his country's national flower, he despised how much they reminded him of the scar on his chest that told him that no matter where he ran off to, he would always be Francis's pet. One hand drifted up to the place where he had been marked, and he closed his eyes sadly. Even if he did love Francis, the vampire had been cruel to him…

"Arthur," Francis called, his voice soft. Arthur turned, and to his horror, he held in his hands the Cat o' Nine Tails. "Arthur, come over to the wall of the house and put your hands on it, removing your shirt first, of course."

Arthur did just as he was instructed, shivering the late morning air. He closed his eyes as he placed his hands on the house, anticipating the whip's strike at any moment. It came sooner than he expected, and by God, the pain was horrid. Each branch of leather felt like fire burning into his flesh, and Arthur wondered how he managed the pain the first time he had been subjected to this torture method. Just by the fifth lash, his hands were growing numb and he was ready to collapse. However, much to his relief, the beatings stopped there.

"Mon petit lapin," Francis addressed Arthur. "I want you to tell me why you're being punished right now."

Arthur forced himself to ignore his stinging back as he replied, "I'm being punished because I was talking back to you this morning." In all honesty, Arthur hadn't put any thought into why he was here now until Francis prompted him.

"Say it louder," Francis commanded, to Arthur's disdain cracking the whip down on him once more. The human groaned and bit down on his lip to prevent himself from crying out. Francis would never take his dignity from him, but even if he did end up screaming, he would never fully submit to the vampire.

Would he?

"Say it," Francis ordered, his voice growing harsh. Two more lashes. Blood, warm and sticky, streamed down Arthur's back.

"I'm… I'm being punished because…" Arthur bit his lip again, just in time to brace himself for the next couple of lashes. His legs felt about to give way. If he had been chained up, this would have been easier since his body would be supported. Instead, he had to hold himself up, only his bare hands keeping him up. "B-because I was talking back to you…" Arthur finally gasped out. The pain was unbearable and he had only taken around 10 lashes.

Francis didn't respond for a moment. Everything was dead silent except for Arthur's ragged breathing. Then, came the vampire's voice. "Now, would you look at that… it's started to rain. Let's hurry inside so we don't get soaked."

Arthur was relived, but he could barely nod in acknowledgement.

"You're a good boy," Francis suddenly commented. Arthur yelped as he felt ice-cold fingers run down his bloody and raw back, ghosting over his beaten flesh and even though he was merely teasing, it felt like Francis's claws were tearing through his skin and ripping him apart. "A very good boy, for not screaming. Even though the forest around the garden is for about a mile out is my private property, some people come through anyways… it wouldn't be good if anyone came here and found out what I've been doing to you, hm?" A tender kiss was placed on the back of Arthur's neck, above his injuries. "Even if you wanted someone to come and rescue you from me, I'd only kill anyone who got in the way…"

Francis's lightly amused tone of voice didn't fool Arthur. His words were dark, as well as his sick mind. He clearly wanted to keep Arthur with him forever, and if anyone objected, he would slaughter them without a second thought, whether it be man, woman, or child.

Arthur let Francis lead him inside the house.

Arthur sighed softly as he stared out the living room window at the pouring rain. It never stopped raining for a long period of time. How depressing.

Francis sat on the couch beside him, gently massaging his bandaged back with tender hands.

"Are you tired, _mon amour?"_ Francis murmured, planting a sweet kiss on Arthur's back, causing him to flinch as he was startled a bit. "Do you want to take a nap? I can carry you up to the bedroom."

The human shrugged in response. "I'm hardly tired," he replied. "I'm just sick of the rain." In all honesty, the rain wasn't the real reason for Arthur's blue mood. He was caught up in his thoughts of Jeanne. Francis acted so loving and caring towards Arthur, but was he being honest? Didn't he still love Jeanne?

"You look quite tired," Francis commented, reaching up and running his fingers delicately through Arthur's hair. "We had quite a night, and you were just beaten… You must be at least a little sore, hm?"

"Do you really love me?" Arthur turned to Francis suddenly, eyes glowing with curiosity. "You… say you love me, but what about Jeanne?"

The silence that responded hung in the hair like thick fog. Arthur sucked in a deep breath—quietly, so his master wouldn't notice—as he realized that Francis was staring at him. This expression, he had never seen before, and it was impossible to describe. It was as if, he was enraged, horrified, shocked, and miserable at the same time, but it intrigued Arthur how all of this emotion was expressed only in his sharp azure eyes. His mouth remained a straight line.

"Since when…" Francis began slowly, each word pronounced clearly. "…do you have the right to ask such a question of me?"

Arthur licked his lips nervously. "Please don't be angry, Master," he said softly. "Just, tell me, are you lying to me? Do you or do you not love me like you loved Jeanne?"

Francis's eyes narrowed darkly, and Arthur flinched as Francis suddenly struck Arthur across the face with his sharp claws. "Silence," he hissed angrily. "If you so much as mention **her** again, for the rest of your miserable human life, then I swear to God that you'll be beaten so hard you won't be able to lift a finger for _years_. I hope that's clear to you, _pet_." The last word was emphasized with a contemptuous snarl.

Even with a thin trail of blood dripping down Arthur's cheek from the slash wound, he didn't flinch at Francis's rage. "Please," he insisted softly. "I must know." He grunted when Francis stood up, yanking Arthur by his shirt collar up with him.

"Did you not understand me when I said to be quiet—?"

The front door swung open. Gilbert walked in, his little yellow bird fluttering around his silvery white hair. Lovino, Antonio, and Elizabeta followed close behind, each holding brown paper bags with food items and other things. When Elizabeta set her sights on Arthur, she gasped, and her bags fell to the floor, all of the contents tumbling out. "Arthur," she breathed, her eyes wide with dismay.

Gilbert glanced over, Elizabeta's voice calling attention to Arthur. "Huh? Hey, Francis, what's going on?" He sounded nonchalant, almost.

"Gilbert," Francis greeted coolly, roughly shoving Arthur back down to the couch."I wasn't aware that you would be back from town this soon. How was your trip?"

"Pretty good." Gilbert shrugged. "By the way, what the fuck are doing to Arthur? Jesus, his cheek's all bloody…"

"That is none of your business," Francis replied haughtily, sticking his chin in the air and making a shooing motion with his hand. "Continue on with your day, if you please. What I do with my pet should not concern you in the least."

"Arthur!" Elizabeta suddenly ran forwards, leaping right into Arthur. The young man caught her and held her there, surprise filling his wide as he embraced the young woman. She looked up at him, jade eyes filled with pity. "Oh, Arthur, we must get this treated right away… I hope it doesn't hurt terribly…"

"It doesn't hurt that much," Arthur lied. "Please, don't trouble yourself over me…" He felt Francis's gaze on him. Don't trouble yourself over me or else I'll be punished again.

Elizabeta was not convinced, however. She gently touched her hand to his cut cheek, and out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Francis stiffen. "That really does look painful, Arthur. Come on, let's get a bandage for it—"

"Arthur Kirkland," Francis interrupted, raising his voice sharply and causing Arthur to jump a bit. "Let go of Eliza and walk towards me this instant." Quickly, Arthur did as he was told with a glance of apology to Elizabeta. "Look at me," Francis growled, grabbing Arthur's chin roughly and forcing eye contact.

The young man stared deep into Francis's blazing blue eyes. Obviously, Francis did not want him anywhere near Elizabeta, which made sense considering how protective he was of his pet.

Then, without warning of any sort, Francis released Arthur's chin and with his other hand, lashed out, his palm colliding with Arthur's uninjured cheek but sending a wave of stinging pain throughout his whole face as the strong blow sent the human to the ground. Arthur also found himself biting down hard on the inside of his mouth as he landed, and a thin trail of blood leaked from his slightly parted lips.

"_Arthur!_" Elizabeta exclaimed, but as she made a move to help him, Francis came forward first and held out his arm at her chest level, holding her back. The vampire then glared down at Arthur, not sparing a glance to the panicking girl.

"Stand up already," Francis growled. "Do not utter a word. Simply stand."

Arthur hesitated before hoisting himself to his feet a bit unsteadily, raising his hand to touch his sore cheek.

"I said, simply stand," Francis snapped. "Move again and I'll punish you. And, all of you—" Francis turned back to Gilbert, Antonio, Lovino, and Elizabeta. "Get out. Now. You must have things to do, don't you? Please leave before I get angry."

Once the small crowd hesitantly shuffled away, Francis glanced back to Arthur, sighing, running his fingers through his long blond hair. "Honestly, Arthur, whatever will I do with you?"

Arthur blinked with surprise. Wasn't Francis angry? What was with this sudden change of mood? "P-pardon?" he stammered, wondering if he misunderstood.

Francis smiled slightly and shrugged his shoulders a bit. "I apologize, pet," he said simply, which thoroughly confused Arthur. Francis rarely apologized to him. Are you playing with me? Francis continued. "Arthur, I believe you've been punished enough for one day. And… well, I may be a bit strict with my rules, but…" Francis knelt in front of Arthur, taking his hand in his own and sincerely gazing up at him. "I can't have you leave me for anyone else. So, as a way of apology for, well, being cruel to you, you can have this day all to yourself. I'll just go into town, maybe look for a meal for later tonight, and I should be back by midnight." He smiled kindly. "My only condition is that you and Elizabeta don't go near each other. Alright?"

Arthur jerked his hand out of Francis's suddenly, his suspicions growing with each word Francis said. "What are you trying to pull?" he demanded. "This isn't like you at all."

"It's not a trick," Francis assured him. "I allow you a break from me and my cruel punishments for the day… but if you're not too tired tonight, perhaps you'd care to offer me your body?"

"Yes, Master."

A knock on the library door interrupted Arthur from the novel that he had been reading. Coincidentally, it was a fantasy novel about a man falling for a female vampire, but the book misinformed the reader about vampires. To begin with, the vampires in the story died when exposed to sunlight and also slept in coffins. And, all of them were pure evil. How ridiculous it seemed to Arthur know that he lived with three vampires.

"Arthur, are you in here?" The door creaked open and Antonio stepped in. The Spaniard grinned at Arthur. "Hola! How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Arthur replied. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing at all! I just wanted to tell you that it's dinnertime! Elizabeta made amazing sandwiches. You'll love them."

"Alright, thanks." Arthur put a bookmark in the novel and set it down on the table beside him. He followed Antonio out and down the stairs to the dining room, where sandwiches sat on a plate in the middle of the table. Lovino and Elizabeta were already seated, eating their own food. When Arthur went to take a seat, though, a heavy hand came down on his back, slapping him.

"Hey! _Kesesesese!_ How're you doin', kid? Happy that Francis isn't here?"

Arthur glared at Gilbert. "Kindly don't hit me, please," he said, taking a sandwich.

"What's wrong, 'Francis's perfect little gentleman?'" Gilbert teased, prodding Arthur's cheek with one finger. "Can't you take a joke? Hey, I have an idea! While Francis is gone, we can talk all kinds of shit about him! I'll go first! Francis has a stupid accent!"

Arthur said nothing.

"Me next," Lovino volunteered. "Francis is bipolar or something! He's nice and then he's evil! All I do is swear at him and then he gets really mad at me!"

_Who's fault is that?_ Arthur thought, feeling a bit angry. It wasn't Francis's fault that he was emotionally challenged. He stood up abruptly. "Thank you for dinner, Eliza," he said. "I'll be in the library if anyone wants me."

"Oh, but Arthur…" Elizabeta started. "You only had a little to eat. Stay, have some more…" But Arthur was already heading upstairs. He ignored her.

Arthur leaned up against the bookshelf, arms wrapped around his body. He let out a shuddering sigh, glancing to the window. It was pitch black outside aside; not even the moon shone. When was Francis coming back? It was well past midnight, and already the clock hands were ticking to 1:05. Where was his Master? He couldn't have gotten hurt out there… he was a vampire. It was frightening though, how dark it was outside. He wouldn't go out there, and was very thankful that he was in a well-lit, comfortable room. Everyone else had retired but him. He was waiting for Francis to come back. Though, maybe he should try and sleep. Then, he would wake up, and Francis would be beside him, stroking his hair and murmuring lovingly to him while kissing his forehead… He opened up the library door, turning off the lights and heading down the hall. Once in the bed, he pulled the covers close to him, snuggling up against the soft white pillow. He wished he wasn't alone tonight. He missed having his Master's arm wrapped protectively, tightly, but gently around his body, giving him a sense of security. There was no sign of Francis, but… in the bed, it smelled a bit like him. He smiled, comforted a bit, and closed his eyes, hoping he would sleep well tonight.

Faintly, as he was drifting off to sleep, a voice sounded beside him. It sounded like, "Hurry, do it now…" but he was too tired to pay attention. Then, suddenly, someone, he didn't know who, grabbed his shoulder and in a very rough manner shoved a cloth into his face, covering his mouth and nose. Arthur was momentarily shocked, and when he took in a deep breath so he wouldn't suffocate, he found that it smelled sickly sweet… Not long after the aroma invaded his body, he felt even more drowsy. Through half closed eyes, he could see a shadowed figure in front of him… then another person was behind him, gagging him with the sweet cloth… And soon, the darkness consumed him completely.

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter has been added on to. It is now the length of a full chapter.<strong>

**Ten more pages and I'll have the next one for you all :) Thank you! Your awesome reviews motivate me to keep typing!**  
><strong>And, I've said this before, but I have actually finished the story ._. So I need something to do, I look at my writing book, I think, "Oh! I'll just write more of Master and Pet... OH WAIT IT'S ALREADY DONE HAHAHAHAHA now i have nothing to do orz." So basically I just need to finish typing and then it's cool.<strong>

**Please review, I love reviews more than anything. :D :D :D**


	14. Ludwig and Feliciano

"Arthur, I'm back… I apologize for being late, but finding a good human was a bit difficult tonight… not many young ladies out there by themselves. Ah… sorry, are you asleep?" Francis paused as no noise came from the bed. Not even the sound of breathing. Panicking, Francis hurried to the bedside, sucking in a deep breath of shock as he realized that there was no one in the bed. The covers had been pulled back, and the lingering scent of chloroform told him that his pet had been drugged and kidnapped. There was another smell, as well… a distinctive smell, like a wet dog. "_Merde_," Francis cursed out loud, turning around to the door. Those damned werewolves Ludwig and Feliciano had taken away Arthur.

Those bastards.

Furiously, Francis stormed from the room, slamming his hand on the light switch as he left. He would inform the rest of the household about Arthur's kidnapping, and wait until morning to find out where his pet had been taken. It was okay to wait that long; the werewolves may have been filthy, carrion-eating dogs, but they had no intention of harming Arthur. Or so he hoped.

* * *

><p>Arthur slowly opened his eyes, still groggy. When had he fallen asleep? Wait a moment… Where the hell was he? There was something touching his cheek, right where the scratch wound was. Something <em>moving<em>. Panicking now, Arthur bolted upright, cringing as a loud noise sounded beside him. It took him a moment to realize that the noise had come from a person yelping in surprise at his sudden movement. Arthur didn't even bother to look at him, though. Instead, he found himself focused on his surroundings. He was sitting up in a comfortable, queen-sized bed with beige sheets, unlike Francis's white ones. The room he was in now, smaller than Francis's bedroom, was definitely not inside the mansion.

"Vee!" exclaimed the person besde him, cowering on the floor. He glanced up, peering over the edge of the bed. "Y-you scared me, Arthur! You shouldn't be moving around though… I was just putting herbs on the cut to prevent infection…"

Arthur turned his gaze on the person, getting a good view of him at last. Copper hair, half-closed eyes that gave him a cute, charming look, and a little curl sticking up from his head. "Feliciano," he murmured. "Where am I?"

"Vee, you're here in my bedroom!" Feliciano replied cheerfully, grinning. He looked a lot like Lovino, except for the smiling part. "But, if you want to know exactly where… This is Ludwig's and my house! We brought you here so we could take care of you!"

Suddenly, Arthur felt a heavy weight in his chest, like a stone had been dropped in his lungs. Just how far away was he from Francis? Would Ludwig and Feliciano let him leave as soon as possible to be back with his Master? And how would Francis react to his return? Would he be angry? Relieved? "Feliciano…" he said softly. Feliciano perked up at the sound of his name. "How close are we to my Master's house?"

Feliciano cocked his head to the side cutely. "Um, I don't know."

Arthur clenched his fists under the blankets. "Then… What part of London are we in?"

"I-I don't know that either…"

"_Then what the hell do you know?"_ Arthur snapped, losing his patience. Feliciano cringed and let out a pitiful whimper. "What am I even doing _here?_ I should be back at the mansion with Master, not with _you_, you worthless little bastard!"

Feliciano stared at Arthur, his eyes watering up after a few moments. He then burst into tears and fled from the room, wailing, "LUUUUDWIIIIIIIIG! Ludwig, Arthur's being scary! Help me!"

Arthur watched the open doorway where Feliciano had left, feeling a pang of guilt for his sudden, harsh words that had frightened the werewolf away. However, when Feliciano returned with Ludwig, Arthur put on a cocky sneer in the face of the tall, muscular blond wolf with piercing blue eyes. Admittedly, he was frightened as to what would happen to him after scaring Feliciano like that, but he held a firm gaze. "So I made Feliciano cry," he said caustically. "What are you going to do to me?"

Ludwig said nothing in response. Making a motion for Feliciano to stay where he was in the doorway, the intimidating German strode up to Arthur raising a hand to bring down on the human. Arthur flinched away, expecting to be struck, but instead the hand fell down on his shoulder—firmly, but painlessly.

"Arthur, Feliciano gets upset easily," Ludwig chided as if scolding a child, kneeling beside Arthur. "You must be gentle with him. I understand where your anger is coming from, but you mustn't take it out on someone who can't defend himself, alright?"

Arthur nodded obediently. Ludwig's words reminded him of Francis's threats and harsh punishments that left him terrified and physically scarred. "Yes, sir. I won't do it again," he replied meekly, turning his head away. Ludwig's eyes were blue, like Francis's.

Ludwig watched Arthur curiously for a moment, then picked up a white patch that had been used for a bandage as well as some leaves from the floor. "Feliciano, you dropped these…" he sighed. "Go get some more herbs, please. These ones are no good now."

"No good?" Feliciano "vee-d" and pressed his finger to his lips inquisitively. "But they're still usable; they were only on the floor for a minute—"

"They're no good," Ludwig repeated, more firm this time.

"Vee, yes sir!" Feliciano saluted (with the wrong hand) and scampered from the room.

Ludwig turned back to Arthur. "Sorry about that," he apologized. "Feli is really sensitive and I don't want to talk about Francis around him." He hoisted himself up on the bed and glanced to Arthur. "I hope your wounds don't hurt too much."

"My…" Arthur hesitated, reaching one hand up to touch his scratched cheek. He wasn't in a lot of pain; he didn't give much thought to it. "N-no, I feel fine. It doesn't hurt."

The werewolf sighed, almost as if in exasperation. "Is that so? Please take off your shirt, then. I would like to examine your scars again. I'm aware that Francis beats you often and you probably have more than you did when I last saw you."

Nervous about removing his shirt in front of someone intimidating like Ludwig, Arthur didn't make eye contact when he removed his shirt. When Ludwig reached out one hand and trailed it down Arthur's front, where the bandages that covered his injured back crossed over his chest, the young man turned his head away.

"This rose will never heal," Ludwig murmured. "May I remove the bandages to look at your back?"

"You may." Arthur's voice was soft, barely above a timid whisper.

Ludwig didn't say anything for a while after he took off the white strips. He stared at Arthur's back in disbelief. "…When?"

Arthur said nothing.

"When did he do this?"

"…Yesterday morning."

Ludwig made something that sounded like a growling sound. "Francis certainly knows how to torture someone," he remarked angrily. "He gives them scars that will never fade." Arthur was silent. "And where did the gash on your cheek come from?"

"Master was angry with me for bringing up a certain topic," Arthur replied.

"Oh…" Ludwig looked down. "Your wrist is bandaged. What did he do?"

Arthur flinched. "My wrist," he said quietly. "Master didn't do that to me."

"Then…" Ludwig slowly began to unwrap the bandages, and Arthur's fingers curled around to form a tight, anxious fists. "You did this, didn't you?" the werewolf asked, letting the white strips of cloth fall to the ground.

"I wanted to escape."

Ludwig glanced up.

"One night when Francis was gone…" Arthur found himself explaining the whole thing to Ludwig, even though his voice was shaking and he knew that Francis would punish him if he ever found out. "I felt like I didn't want to be with him anymore… I went down to the kitchen, and… I got a knife. I was going to cut, but I was having second thoughts. Then, I was going to put the knife back. But…" He swallowed. "Francis came back and he startled me. The knife, it…" Arthur gazed at his own scarred wrist sadly. "It sort of slipped and I cut too deeply."

"So it was unintentional," Ludwig said in response. "Just an accident. What did Francis do when he found out?"

Arthur grimaced at the memory of that time. Francis's cold, merciless sapphire eyes boring into him as he writhed helplessly on the kitchen floor, blood spilling from his cut wrist like a waterfall.

_ "Master, I'm… I'm going to bleed to death! Please-!"_

_ "Why? Why the hell should I help you?"_

_ "I didn't think…that it would be this painful…"_

"He was mad," Arthur murmured. "He was looking at me like he didn't care. But he helped me." He stared at the blankets rather than at Ludwig. "Then he gave me a choice. I could try and kill myself again, or I could try and kill him, or I could remain as his pet."

"Why didn't you kill him?"

"Because he's my Master," Arthur whispered. "I love him."

Ludwig only stood up, looking down at Arthur. His eyes were filled with sympathy as well as confusion. "Thank you for talking to me… I'll have Feliciano come in and bandage you up again." He picked up the dirty white cloth from the floor and carried it to the door.

"Thank you, sir," Arthur called out shyly.

Before Ludwig left, he turned back a final time. "You can call me Ludwig."

* * *

><p>"Gilbert Weilschimdt," Francis growled, storming up to the albino and grasping his shirt collar to jerk him forwards while looking down on him with icy blue eyes before Gilbert could defend himself. "I am fully aware that you helped plan with that bastard for a brother of yours to kidnap my pet. Lovino told me that much, but I'd like to hear the rest from you… <em>s'il vous plait<em>."

Gilbert squirmed under Francis's grip. "Hey, watch it! These are new clothes! I just got them a few days ago when I was in town!"

Francis thrust his face into Gilbert's, eyes flashing angrily. "In town? You mean when you went to see Ludwig?" Suddenly, sharp claws ripped through Gilbert's shirt, earning an exclamation of shock from the white-haired vampire. Shreds of cloth fluttered to the floor like feathers. Francis smirked. "You're lucky that it's only you that I'm targeting and not your precious pet."

Gilbert's crimson eyes hardened suddenly, giving him a fierce and more confident look. "We have a deal, Francis. We don't mess with each other's pets."

The French vampire's upper lip twitched in the beginnings of a snarl. "Then what were you doing, getting involved with the kidnapping of my pet? Tell me now, or I may just torture you until you can barely whisper me my answer."

* * *

><p>Two weeks later, Arthur felt fully refreshed. Upon his request, Ludwig and Feliciano had not taken to a hospital to get his wounds better treated (even though Feliciano literally got down on his knees and begged). Despite that, he felt better than he ever had before. He had gotten into a daily routine with Ludwig and Feliciano; waking up, eating breakfast, maybe going to town or into the forest nearby for a pleasant stroll, eating lunch, hanging around the house, maybe playing a few games with Feliciano, eating dinner, and sleeping. IT was quite relaxing, and Arthur had nearly forgotten what it was truly like to have a good laugh with friends and have full, delicious meals every day. Arthur wouldn't say that Ludwig forced him to eat, but when the human insisted he wasn't hungry at meal times, Ludwig would stare at him so intently Arthur found himself giving in.<p>

However, as the days passed, Arthur had begun to wonder what would happen if he had ever returned to Francis. As he slowly recovered from the physical trauma from the vampire's cruel punishments, it seemed be entering his mind more and more that he was in a better condition and Francis had a good argument for the werewolves if he wanted to take his pet back. But what would happen to him afterwards? Would his punishment be cruel for not coming back? And would Francis hurt Ludwig or Feliciano for the kidnapping? Arthur couldn't stand the thought of Feliciano being hurt.

"Arthur, vee, are you okay?" Feliciano prodded Arthur's shoulder with his index finger as the three sat around the table, enjoying breakfast. "You're staring off into space and you look kind of sad…" A frown was on the young Italian werewolf's face when Arthur glanced up, telling him that Feliciano was truly concerned about him; he was usually smiling.

"It's nothing," Arthur said, adding a convincing laugh. "I was just afraid that I couldn't finish all of these eggs and hotcakes is all." For more effect that he wasn't sad and was in a playful mood, he leaned closer to Feliciano and whispered loudly so that Ludwig was sure to hear, saying, "And we both know how strict Ludwig is if we don't clean our plates."

Feliciano giggled and Ludwig growled lightheartedly. Arthur smiled to himself and started on his breakfast again, thankful that the others had been drawn away from the human's troubling thoughts. After the table had been cleared, Ludwig announced, "We're going to town today so we can go shopping and maybe get some of those dog treats that Feliciano likes." Feliciano yipped happily, his dog tail wagging. At the house, Ludwig and Feliciano had their dog features, but didn't turn into actual wolves until the full moon. When around other people, however, they assumed a human form.

Instead of just buying food, Feliciano ended up purchasing a tie with a cute dog-bone pattern on it, and Ludwig got some "adult" books (which he seemed very embarrassed about).

"So what will we be doing when we get home?" Feliciano asked cheerfully, bounding ahead of Ludwig and Arthur, skipping backwards with a silly grin on his face. "Can we have pasta?"

Ludwig smiled. "I think we'll have sandwiches," he said. "We can't have pasta all the time, Feli."

"Why not?" Feliciano pouted. "Pasta is good!"

The humorous argument continued for a while longer, Ludwig insisting that eating only pasta in your life is unhealthy, but Feliciano stood by his reasoning that pasta just tasted really good and if you had never eaten it, you hadn't lived. Arthur fell behind a bit, watching the two werewolves argue with a small smile on his face. It was amusing just listening to them bicker about something so trivial…

Abruptly, Ludwig halted, his nose twitching. Arthur came up behind him just as the werewolf uttered his name. "Arthur," he said urgently, his head barely turning before the human felt two ice-cold hands wrap around his neck. Ludwig's blue eyes filled with horror, and Arthur's breath caught in his throat as long, pointed fingernails teased his pale flesh; not digging in deep enough to cut him, but in such a way that an eerie chill went down his spine. "Arthur, that's…."

"Arthur Kirkland…" Low, almost melodious, the voice with a clear French accent murmured in his ear. "My pet…" The hands around Arthur's neck crept up, seeming to caress his cheeks for a moment before roughly grabbing his chin and jerking his head up so Arthur stared at the tops of the highest buildings. Obviously, Arthur wasn't allowed to look behind him. As he stared at the sky, heavy, labored breaths escaped his lips, panic taking over his body and fear possessing his mind like a predator grasps its prey. "You reek of wet dog all over, pet," Francis whispered, soft breath rustling his ashen blond hair. One of his fingernails pressed deeper into Arthur's cheek, forcing a cry from him when the nail pierced the pastel, tender flesh.

"Francis, stop!" Ludwig ordered, obviously struggling to restrain himself from leaping forwards to attack the vampire in broad daylight in the middle of the street. "Arthur had just recovered from your… punishments." The last word was whispered out, probably to prevent too much attention being drawn to the small group. "You can't take him back."

Francis sneered at the werewolf, only digging his fingernail in deeper. Arthur did all he could not to let out a loud exclamation. Already, people passing were beginning to look. Hopefully they thought they were rehearsing for a movie or something. A thin stream of blood trickled down Arthur's neck. "Who are you to declare this and that about my pet?" Francis laughed mockingly. "I assure you, dog, I would never let him die at my mansion. His faults would not go unpunished, but you needn't worry about his life. He'll be fine with me."

"Vee, Ludwig…" Feliciano spoke up, prodding Ludwig's shoulder. "People are looking…"

"You're right." Ludwig nodded curtly to his partner. "Francis, let's walk, like civilized people, to that alley over there. It's dark enough to conceal us and keep our discussion private."

Francis apparently agreed, because he led Arthur to the alley while gripping the back of his neck with his claws. Ludwig turned to face Francis; eyes gleaming maliciously even in the shadows. "Francis, Arthur can't live with you. He's told me that you've taken everything from him but his life. You constantly punish him, and you give him scars that will never heal." He took a threatening step forwards, his blond wolf ears perking up before laying flat against his slicked back hair in anger. "You've also hurt him mentally. If I were to raise my hand, he expects punishment." Arthur, hearing every word, silently wished that Ludwig wouldn't say all of these things that would only anger Francis more. But the werewolf continued. "He lives in a constant state of fear of you, vampire. He'll go mad if you don't cease this cruel treatment."

Francis hardly reacted. His grip tightened on Arthur's neck, earning a hiss of pain from the human. "Arthur told you all of that?" he purred smoothly. He ruffled Arthur's hair almost fondly, but Arthur knew he was boiling inside. "…Is that true, dearest Arthur?"

Arthur hesitated. "Y-yes, Master."

A small laugh came from Francis's mouth; it was barely audible even though Arthur was directly in front of his Master. Suddenly, he was thrown to the ground, face smashing into the concrete. The cut on his face became irritated by the dirty ground, and he moaned at the discomfort. When he tried to hoist himself up, though, a foot landed on the middle of his back and he collapsed again, staring straight ahead with dulled eyes. There was no escape.

"Perhaps you should have kept your mouth shut," Francis snarled, his tone of voice changing completely to one that sounded like he really wanted to murder Arthur. The vampire grinded his heel into Arthur's back, forcing another cry from him. "What the hell made you think it was okay to discuss your sad, pitiful life story with this flea-bitten son of a bitch?"

Arthur's fingers curled around nothing, trying to grasp something—anything—to pull himself out from under Francis. "I-I don't know," he stammered. "Please…" Suddenly, Francis uttered a sharp exclamation and his foot's weight disappeared from Arthur's body. Confused, Arthur turned his head, shocked to see that Ludwig had leapt at Francis, knocking him to the ground. He sat on top of the vampire, pinning his arms beside his head. Arthur stood up, staring at Francis writhing on the ground almost helplessly.

"Arthur, hurry!" Ludwig urged. "Go with Feliciano and get out of here!" While Ludwig's head was turned, however, Francis let out a fearsome growl and thrust himself upwards, pushing the werewolf off and climbing to his feet.

"Arthur," the vampire hissed. "Get over here, to me, this instant."

Fearful and almost awed at how quickly these dilemmas were turning up, Arthur did not move or say a word. He only stared.

"P-please," Feliciano whimpered. He quickly moved forwards, standing in front of Arthur. He was trembling from the tip of his wolf ears to his toes, but he held his ground. "Don't take Arthur from us! We take good care of him and we make sure he doesn't get hurt by anyone mean like you!"

Arthur flinched at the bluntness of Feliciano's words, and Francis narrowed his eyes dangerously. Wondering if Ludwig would help, Arthur glanced to the other werewolf, but to his disappointment, Ludwig appeared to be unconscious. He must have hit his head on the ground when fRancis threw him aside.

His attention turned back to Francis when Feliciano let out a pitiful whine, and with a jolt, Arthur realized that Francis was slowly advancing on them. He halted though, right in front of Feliciano, looming over him.

Feliciano's eyes began to water up, and he cried out, "Please don't hit me! Vee!"

Francis knelt down, placing a hand on his shoulder. He smiled. Arthur knew that he wasn't being friendly, though. "Let's make a deal," he said slowly, as if addressing a child. "You let me take Arthur back home, and your dear brother's body remains in one piece."

"W-what?" Feliciano whimpered, copper eyes widening.

Arthur's hands began to tremble at his sides. He didn't want to go back to Francis if he was going to be punished. He wasn't worried for Lovino's safety, though. It was against the pact to harm another vampire's pet, and if Francis did that he might be killed by Antonio. Francis was just screwing with Feliciano's head. But, he didn't want Feliciano to worry about his brother. He would rather take the punishment.

Hastily, Arthur stepped out from behind Feliciano, swallowing his fear back and clenching his fists anxiously when Francis turned his gaze to him. He rose, looking down upon his pet with icy eyes. "M-Master," he managed to stutter out. "Just take me back."

"B-but Arthur!" Feliciano protested, his stick-out curl bobbing up and down as he spoke. "You can't go with him! You'll get hurt!"

"Yes," Francis agreed, his voice hard and cold as he gave Arthur a resentful glower. The human nearly flinched at the cold depths of the vampire's sapphire eyes. But Francis didn't really hate him, right? "Feliciano's right, Arthur," he continued. "So why on earth—" He paused, and his gaze hardened. "—would you want to return to your cold-hearted, cruel, demonic, sadistic Master? You're punished all the time. In fact, you'll be punished when we return home. And you knew that I was lying about harming Lovino." At this, Feliciano let out a little sigh of relief. "So, Arthur Kirkland, what drives you to wish to be back with me?"

Arthur bit his lip and looked down for a moment, silent. Why was Francis giving him reasons for turning him away? Also, how was he to reply? Did Francis want a certain answer from him? If so, he had no idea how to respond. If they were alone, it would be easy to simply say that he loved Francis. But in front of Feliciano, who was trying to protect him from his Master, it would be difficult. Before him, Francis's image seemed to blur, become fuzzy. Everything around him swayed.

"Why?" Arthur started, trembling. He closed his eyes in a slow blink, wondering if the dizzy feeling would fade. "Because, Master, I… love you."

With that, Arthur promptly collapsed, his legs giving way beneath him and letting his body hit the ground. Everything faded to black as his consciousness slipped from him.

* * *

><p>Arthur blinked slowly and sat up in Francis's bed. What had happened? The whole ordeal with the werewolves… had he dreamt it? He rubbed the back of his neck, cringing with surprise when he realized that it was bandaged where Francis had dug his nails into his skin.<p>

"So," came the soft murmur from the doorway. Arthur glanced up, startled by Francis's appearance. He was leaning against the doorway, arms folded across his chest as he stared at his pet intently, grimly. Arthur noticed that the door was closed. Had Francis come through the door and closed it so quietly he didn't notice, or had he been there the whole time? And what would he do to Arthur now? How harsh would his punishment be?

Francis, without another word, promptly turned and left. He didn't slam the door behind him, nor did he take the time to delicately close it. He simply swung it by its handle into its place, letting it click shut. His footsteps could he heard striding through the hall, walking in the opposite direction of the bedroom. Arthur stared at the door in utter confusion. The vampire _never _left Arthur alone after he had just broken his rules. He usually assigned a time and punishment, or just took him downstairs immediately to discipline him. Francis's behavior wasn't normal.

As quickly as he could, Arthur got out of the bed and went to the closet for some clean clothes, throwing on a white button up short-sleeved shirt and some slacks, then hurried out the door. He was almost sure that Francis would punish him for dressing himself. He didn't care. As he entered the hall, he ran into Elizabeta.

"Arthur!" Elizabeta exclaimed, a smile forming on her delicate face. She embraced him, and Arthur gently hugged her back. You're in my way, Eliza. I want to get to Francis.

Elizabeta stepped back at last. "Oh, Arthur! I'm so glad you're safe! It was scary when I found out that you were kidnapped, and… well, I really missed you." She giggled.

I don't care. I want Francis.

"…and I'm sorry that you have to be back here with the vampires, but—"

"Where is my Master?" Arthur demanded, running out of patience. He didn't have time to talk to Elizabeta.

The young woman's smile vanished in an instant, and the happiness in her jade eyes shattered like glass. "Your…" Her voice trailed off. "Your _Master_ went to the library," she finished harshly, quickly excusing herself into her bedroom.

Arthur didn't spare her a second glance before hurrying to the library, slowly opening the door to peer inside. "…Master?"

Sure enough, Francis sat in a comfortable leather chair, holding a book (an erotic novel, to be specific) in one hand, a glass of red wine in the other. He didn't give any signal that he had noticed Arthur, only leisurely sipping his wine and setting it on the table to turn the page.

"Master," Arthur said, a little louder this time. Again, Francis ignored him. "…Master!" Angrily, Arthur strode up to Francis, yanking the novel from his hands to hurl it across the room. It landed on the floor, not before hitting the wall with a dull smacking noise.

Francis, hand holding the book as if it was still there, turned his gaze on Arthur coldly. "Get my book," he said frigidly.

Arthur swallowed. This attempt at getting attention had proven to be almost too risky. He could back out now, doing as his Master instructed. But instead, he stood his ground, hands trembling by his sides. He didn't want Francis to ignore him. "No."

The vampire's glare hardened with anger, eyes smoldering. "I beg your pardon, pet?" he snarled.

Arthur kept his head held high. "I said, no."

"One more chance and I'll let you off easy with a hundred lashes from the cruelest whip I have."

The human could barely manage to hold eye contact. He was terrified. "I-I don't care what you do to me," he whispered, his voice reduced to nothing out of fear. He didn't want to be punished. He just wanted attention. But if a savage beating got Francis to act normal again, he could take it.

Francis's eye twitched visibly. "Pet," he said softly, all of his fury concealed by his soft voice. "I'm giving you a break this time. Your punishment may leave you conscious when I'm through with you if you do as I say now." He paused. "So please go get my book and apologize."

"And what of my other punishment?" Arthur asked quietly, breaking eye contact and letting his gaze stray to the side. "When will I receive that?"

"…Pardon?" Francis murmured, arching one eyebrow curiously.

Arthur took a deep breath before looking Francis in the eyes again. "My punishment for leaving the house. When I was kidnapped." He brushed his hair from his eyes. "I'm not allowed outside the mansion, right? So I should be punished."

Francis's angry expression faded, to be replaced by one of… nothing. His face was blank as he said, "You're absolutely right, Arthur."

He walked out of the room.

Arthur stared in confusion for just a moment before bolting after him. "Master!" he called, catching up quickly and grasping Francis's shoulder desperately, forcefully tugging to turn him around. Francis fixed Arthur with a glare burning with fury.

"Don't touch me like that," he snarled, jerking himself from Arthur's grasp. "You have no right to—"

"Good," Arthur rudely interrupted. "You're finally acting like yourself again." He was provoking Francis on purpose.

Francis's firm and sudden backhand sent Arthur flying into the hallway's floor, where he skidded over the carpet on the injured side of his face. It took Arthur a moment to recover from the burning on his cheek and the stinging sensation in his jaw before he struggled to his feet. But when he saw that Francis had disappeared again, he just wanted to fall back down in defeat.

"Something wrong kid?" came Gilbert's voice from behind him. "You're just standing there like you've seen a ghost. Not like they're not real or anything, but you know…"

Arthur turned, his eyes widening at the sight before him. "Gilbert," he whispered in horror. "Your eye…"

* * *

><p><strong>This is a real update! Yes!<strong>  
><strong>All of your reviews encouraged me to keep writing this! As I've said before, the story is finished, and I'm actually nearing the end.<strong>

**In response to all of you, I made a video (that has been split into two parts) discussing the story. FanFiction doesn't allow the posting of links, so please go on YouTube and type in "BuzzCycle" (the username I post under). Some things are explained and questions are answered; if you have any other questions, ask them in reviews or email! Thanks!**

**-G**


	15. Arthur and Alice

Gilbert reached up and gently touched the bandage that covered his right eeye, grinning like nothing was wrong. "This? This is nothing. Okay, I lied, it's actually something. Francis kind of ripped out my eyeball and burned it, but it's cool. Vampire eyes grow back, I think. I mean, their fingers do, right?"

Arthur couldn't find the words to reply.

"Yeah, that one time, when I was using that knife when my old house had the mouse infestation, suddenly my finger's gone, and I was living with my bro at the time, even though I was already a vampire… anyways I started screaming like a little bitch and then he comes in and he sees I'm not bleeding so he thinks I'm playing some sort of trick on him… So then he just kind of leaves and I have to deal with the stupid mice that were hiding inside of their retarded mouse hole with just one hand. A few days later the finger grew back. It was badass."

"…Why?"

Gilbert looked at Arthur curiously. "Why did my house have a mouse infestation? I dunno—"

"Why did Francis do that to you?"

Gilbert paused as if unprepared for the question. "Why? For helping my brother kidnap you and then not telling Francis where he took you, I think. Yeah, that must have been it."

"He did such a thing…" Arthur stammered, his fists by his side, clenched so tightly he thought his nails might break his skin. "…just for that? My God…"

"Oh, hey!" Gilbert brightened up. "Wanna see my eye socket? It looks really badass—" He broke off, realizing that Arthur had already bolted downstairs to follow Francis.

Arthur skidded to a halt in the kitchen, glancing around. No sign of Francis, just Antonio sitting at the table reading a newspaper. "Antonio!" Arthur said, breathing heavily from the short sprint. "Have you seen my Master?"

Antonio pointed in the general direction of the living room. "I just heard the basement door a few moments ago; he's probably down there."

"Thank you so much," Arthur said, turning around. What on earth is he doing in the basement? He flung open the basement door, hurrying down the stairs. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, causing Arthur to flinch at the loud, echoing noise. Who had Francis shot? Praying it wasn't someone innocent, Arthur turned the corner, and he stared with horror.

Francis lay on the floor, a pistol underneath his pale hand. Hair disheveled, eyes closed, his body perfectly still.

"Master!" Arthur exclaimed, dashing to Francis's side and kneeling there. Vampires couldn't die… Right? "Master, are you…?"

Francis slowly sat up, picking up his pistol and regarding it disdainfully before tossing it into a corner of the room. He turned to Arthur. "How can I kill myself if I'm already dead?" he inquired softly, probably to himself. "I can't shoot myself, suffocate myself, poison myself, let myself bleed out…"

"Master…" Arthur's voice was ragged. Francis wanted to die. He wanted to leave Arthur to be with Jeanne in heaven.

He didn't love him.

"Do you want to know why?" Francis suddenly asked, eyes lighting up with sardonic amusement. "Is that what you want to know? You, of all people?" He giggled, almost bitterly. "Because, Arthur Kirkland, you no longer love me."

Arthur's head snapped up. He stared at Francis. "What?" he asked, confused. "Of course I love you!"

"The front door is not locked," Francis said suddenly, the smile disappearing from his face in an instant. He turned his head. "You can use it as you please. Walk out. Leave. I don't care anymore." Abruptly, his voice had turned icy cold.

Arthur couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Master, I love you!" he exclaimed desperately.

Francis stood up, heading for the corner of the torture room. Stooping over, he picked up his pistol and wiping dirt from it. "Go on, leave. I don't care to see your face anymore." His voice was now a matter-of-fact tone, like he really didn't want Arthur to be near him anymore. But that couldn't be true, right? Francis was his Master. The vampire didn't kidnap him for no reason at all. The human stood his ground.

"I'm not leaving you, Master!" he said stubbornly. "I-I love you! I can't just walk out!"

Click!  
>The pistol in Francis's hand was cocked and he slowly brought it up, aiming directly for Arthur's head. Green emerald eyes stretched wide with shock. "Perhaps I shouldn't have made it sound like you were given a choice," he said softly. "Leave. Just get the hell out of my mansion."<p>

"Ma—" BANG! Pain struck Arthur's face as the bullet barely grazed his cheek, a splash of blood flying to the side. Arthur couldn't only stare in horror at Francis though, frozen.

His Master had shot him. Not to torture him, and it certainly was no accident. Francis wanted him gone.

Backing up, Arthur gave Francis one last, sad look before turning and running as fast as his legs would carry him up the stairs, flinging open the basement door and running into the living rom. But he didn't stop there. He dashed out the front door, slamming it behind him. He was greeted by the cobblestone path, surrounded by lush trees and foliage that led all the way down to the road, while gray clouds hung above him, rain drizzling down. Though, "drizzling" didn't quite fit; maybe "pouring" or cascading" would better describe the rainfall.

In nothing but the plain white shirt, slacks, and bare feet, Arthur ran down the path, not looking back once to the mansion to see if Francis was pursuing him. He just wanted to get away. Away from his former Master.

_Go on, leave._

_ I don't care to see your face anymore._

The cut on Arthur's face stung. His feet were getting cold.

_Just get the hell out of my mansion. _

He kept running, breath heavy, feet pounding on the road. Maybe, if he could just make it to town, he could find a telephone booth and call someone—Alfred—to come and get him. But wait, he had no money. He had no food, even, nor a pair of shoes and a clean set of clothes. Really, all that Arthur had was no place to live and a bleeding cut on his face.

Arthur slowed his pace down to a quick walk, ignoring passing cars and pedestrians. And once in town, he stared out into the bustling streets, busy with people and cars and shops, he realized that he had no idea what to do.

A few people gave him odd looks, and Arthur could tell why. This young man, with no umbrella or shoes, standing out on the sidewalk with an untreated injury on his face and probably with a clueless expression was staring out at nothing. What an odd sight he must have been.

_So what now?_

_ I have no money. Do I just stand out on the street and beg? But then, where would I sleep? Well, I might as well get out of the rain._ He hurried under the awning of the nearest building, seating himself on the sidewalk and pressing his back to the cold wall of the building. Maybe someone would feel sorry for him and give him some spare change.

Maybe.

By noon, not one person had stopped by to give him money. And since he hadn't even eaten breakfast that morning, he was getting a little hungry.

By sundown, he was starving.

"Hey, you!" Arthur glanced up. Some teenage boy, hair spiked with gel, approached him with a cocky grin. This couldn't be good new. The boy but his hands in his pockets and looked down at Arthur, sneering. "You've been here a while, haven't you? Are you homeless?"

Arthur glowered at the boy. "Yes," he said. "Is it not obvious?"

The boy snickered, taking one hand from his pocket. "Here, have some money. I don't need it; but obviously, you do." With that, he hurled a coin directly at Arthur's forehead.

No passerby's seemed to notice as Arthur was struck with the small metal object. The young man uttered no sound when he was hit, but he did flinch a little. It hurt.

The teenager laughed at him. "Useless bums like you dirty up the streets of London," he jeered. "Go get a job or something."

Arthur looked at the coin. It was a penny. "Thank you," he murmured. Even if it wasn't meant to be a kind offer, money was still money.

The teenager glared, probably annoyed that he hadn't received any angry retaliation. He turned and left, leaving Arthur alone again. The young man pulled his knees up to his chest, slipping the coin into his pocket before wrapping his arms around his legs and burying his face in his knees. He tried not to think about how much he longed to sleep in Francis's comfy white bed, one protective arm wrapped over his body… keeping him safe and comfortable…

* * *

><p>"Gone?" Elizabeta uttered, her voice coming out as a squeak. "Gone where?"<p>

Francis poured himself a third glass of wine before turning his gaze calmly back to the young woman. "I wouldn't know," he responded steadily. Resting one arm on the dining room table, he sipped his drink leisurely. "He's left the mansion and I need not look into it further than that."

"B-but…" Elizabeta couldn't find the right words. Wouldn't Francis try and catch Arthur? Didn't they love each other? "W-will he return soon?"

The blond vampire gave Elizabeta a glance. "I doubt it," he said, lifting the glass to his eye level and swirling the wine around in it. "He didn't look like he wanted to see me again."

Elizabeta was now confused. "Won't you pursue him?"

"_Ma chère_," Francis sighed. "I was the one who told him to leave."

* * *

><p>July 3, 1980.<p>

I was sick of it. The way that Arthur resists me so, even though he claims to love me. He was lying, I'm sure of it. I'm disappointed that I had to resort to shooting him to get him to leave. I never thought that I would point a gun at my pet. But who knows what Arthur will do on his own. Maybe he's contacted someone he likes, maybe Alfred or Ludwig. Or maybe another vampire found him. Maybe he's already dead. It's a pity that he had to leave, though. I'm going to miss drinking his sweet blood whenever I was hungry instead of having to go out to hunt. But looking back, it was pointless to torture Gilbert to get the details of his kidnappings.

I love you, Jeanne.

* * *

><p>Arthur dropped the coins that he had collected into his newly obtained Styrofoam cup—someone had been nice enough to buy him coffee at a nearby shop. He only had seven pence, but maybe now people would be more likely to donate if he showed that he was asking for money. Then, he could use a public phone.<p>

_Clink! Clink!_ Two pence were dropped into his cup.. "Thank you!" Arthur called out to the man who had given him the coins. He received no reply.

Soon after, a woman stopped by him, then rummaged around in her purse. "Here," she said, dropping two pounds and six shillings into the cup. "Make good use of that money."

A smile formed on Arthur's face. "Thank you, ma'am," he said gratefully. "I promise I will!"

The woman went on her way without a word.

_I have enough to make a phone call,_ Arthur thought. _But should I use it to buy food instead?_ No, finding a place to stay was more important. He had nearly frozen to death the other night. He hurried to the nearest phone booth.

…

"This number is no longer in service—"

"ALFRED, YOU BASTARD!" Arthur furiously hung up the phone, exiting the booth in a huff. He went straight back to his usual spot, placing the cup next to him as he sat down, hugging his knees and staring at the ground. Alfred's number had been disconnected… What a waste of money.

Oh… he could find Ludwig and Feliciano! They would take him in, at least for a night!

He grabbed his cup and hurried along the rain slicked streets of London; he was pretty sure he knew the location of the werewolves' home.

* * *

><p>Francis slammed the front door behind him in frustration. No luck with hunting tonight, just like last night. Damn it, he was so hungry and horny… If all else failed, he could just ask to borrow Elizabeta from Gilbert for just one night. But no, she wouldn't satisfy him. He wanted someone <em>sweeter<em> than her.

"What took you so long to get back, Francis?" Antonio called from the kitchen. "We've been here for an hour already!"

Gilbert nodded in agreement as Francis came in, glaring at his two friends. "Yeah, we usually get home at the same time. Did you take extra-long with some pretty virgin girl, or maybe you had trouble finding a place to ditch the body?"

"I got nothing," Francis said coldly. "No one to drink from, no one to fuck, nothing at all." He promptly exited, hands clenched into fists.

Antonio turned to Gilbert, his green eyes wide. "Do you think he was mad?"

* * *

><p>"Arthur!" The young man was greeted with a hug by the hyperactive Italian werewolf on the porch. Hesitantly, Arthur hugged Feliciano back. "It's so good to see you again, vee~! Oh, but look! You have a cut on your face and you're not wearing any shoes…"<p>

Arthur stepped back, rubbing his arm self-consciously. "L-listen… I want to speak with Ludwig. Is he home?"

Feliciano beamed. "Of course! Come on in!"

Soon after Arthur had taken a seat on the couch, Ludwig entered the living room, eyeing Arthur curiously. "What did he do to you this time?" was all he said.

Arthur looked at his feet. "He told me to leave," he said softly. "And then he shot me."

"He—" Ludwig glanced to Feliciano. "Feli, this conversation isn't appropriate for you to listen to. Why don't you get some bandages for Arthur's cheek?"

"He shot me," Arthur continued once Feliciano had gone. Ludwig sat down on the couch next to him. "The bullet grazed my cheek. A-and before that, when I woke up yesterday morning in the bed, he kept on avoiding me and ignoring me. I chased him to the basement, and he had a pistol… he had shot himself in the head… He wanted to kill himself." Arthur shivered. "Then he claimed that I didn't love him. So when he shot me, he told me to leave, and… I spent last night on the streets. I tried to call my cousin in America, but the number was disconnected. I'm sorry I have to bother you, but can I… can I stay here?"

Ludwig placed a hand on Arthur's back comfortingly. "Of course. Don't worry about a thing, Arthur. You're in good hands now."

"Thank you so much…"

"So when should we turn you into a werewolf? We'll wait until you're ready. You can have some time to prepare yourself mentally."

"What?" Arthur stared at the blond German in disbelief. "You want to turn me into a werewolf?"

Ludwig nodded. "It will be the easiest thing to do. Besides, you might actually like being one."

"I'll take my chances living on the street," Arthur abruptly interrupted, standing up. "Thank you, though."

Ludwig sighed. "Come back here, Arthur. We can't send you back out injured without any money or a place to stay, Just… think over the offer for two days. If you still don't want to become one, we'll give you some better clothes and money and send you on your way."

Arthur gave Ludwig a wary glance. "So I'll stay a human for at most, two days if I stay here with you?"

"_Ja._"

"…Deal."

* * *

><p>Francis crept through the tombstones, keeping his gaze transfixed on the young woman walking quickly and nervously across the path in the middle of the cemetery. She had long blond hair, in pigtails on either side of her head. Gorgeous emerald eyes hid behind glasses, and she seemed to be very young; nineteen, maybe twenty. The only thing he looked at disdainfully was her outfit. A T-shirt and jeans. How unfitting for a young lady—but he could change that easily.<p>

This one would be his.

He silently followed behind her, waiting a few moments to let her hear his footsteps. The woman immediately stopped in her tracks. When she turned her head, Francis could see clearly the fear dancing in her green eyes that had been lightly enhanced by a bit of mascara, and her rose-pink lips trembled.

"_Bonjour_." Francis's greeting was in his most suave, seductive tone as he took a long step forwards, closing the distance between the two. They were now only a few inches apart, and Francis smirked with delight. How fun this would be. "Would you care to assist me, _mademoiselle?_"

The woman was flustered. Blushing, she turned away. "I'm sorry, I-I have to get home…" She turned around to leave, but Francis grabbed her shoulder.

"Wait," he whispered, opening his mouth to let his fangs slide out. "Face me, ma chère. I'd like to see your beautiful face again." The woman turned back without a word. Her hands, clutching a purse, were shaking and trembling uncontrollably.

Ah, fear. The perfect seasoning for the sweet taste of her blood.

He snatched the purse from the woman's hands, tossing it to the ground. She wouldn't be needing it any longer.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "That's my purse…"

Francis took her wrist with one hand, swiftly moving his other hand to her waist, which in response earned him a terrified squeak from his prey. As if they were dancing, Francis swung her around gracefully before dipping her low, almost the ground. The woman blushed lightly as she stared into the vampire's sapphire eyes. This was going perfectly. Greeting, seduction, feasting, and taking her back home.

He leaned in, his lips grazing her ear. "My name is Francis Bonnefoy," he murmured. "And from this point on, I am your Master."

The woman was barely able to utter a noise before Francis sank his fangs deep into her tender neck, sucking her sweet blood contently. Upon pulling out, the woman let out a sharp gasp, a few drops of blood splashing to the ground. Her face was pale, and she seemed a bit dizzy. Her cheeks had lost some color. Francis licked the delicious crimson liquid from his red lips and stared at his new pet for a moment longer. She would look much better if…

Swiftly, he took the glasses from her face, tucking them in his breast pocket. Ah, now she looked just exquisite.

He picked her up, bridal-style, and kissed her forehead. "What's your name, pet?"

"Alice," she murmured, her body relaxing in Francis's arms.

"Well, Alice, I hope you have a nice rest…"

* * *

><p>Alice slowly blinked. She was staring at the ceiling, just awoken from sleep. Birds chirped outside. I hope I didn't oversleep… I have school… She reached out to get her glasses from her nightstand... Wait…<p>

Abruptly, she sat up, her eyes wide. This wasn't her room. Where was she? A pretty bedroom, decorated with white carpet, claret curtains on the windows, and a large white bed. Had she been kidnapped? At least her clothes were still on…

She took off the covers to stand up and check out her surroundings. It was a very large room, with a closet to her left, and a door in front of her. A few pictures hung on the wall.

Suddenly, the door opened.

Startled, Alice jumped back a bit, but thankfully, a nice-looking woman came in. She had wavy brown hair with flowers in it and jade green eyes. "Hi," she greeted, smiling. "I hope you slept well. I'm just here to check on your injury."

Alice was confused. "What injury?"

"The one on your neck that your Master made when he drank your blood." The woman came closer to her.

"My Master? What are you talking about?" Alice gently touched her own neck, feeling a bandage.

The woman paused. "You'll see."

While Alice let the woman check the wound, she asked, "What's your name?"

"Elizabeta."

"I'm Alice." Remembering her manners, she added quickly, "I-it's nice to meet you."

Elizabeta smiled. She seems like such a nice person, Alice thought. "It's nice to meet you too. Well, it seems to be healing alright. Try not to take the bandage off for the rest of the day. If your Master says otherwise, tell him that I say otherwise."

"T-thanks," Alice said politely. "Oh, um, do you know where my glasses are?"

"Ask your Master," Elizabeta replied.

The door opened again. Alice glanced over, and her eyes widened with surprise. It was the blond man from last night. The one who drank her blood. But he isn't a vampire, right? Vampires aren't real…

"Ah, my lovely pet has awoken," Francis sang out, coming up to the two women. "Good morning, Alice. How are you feeling?"

"You…" Alice began. She recognized him. The man from last night. "You're the jerk that attacked me in the graveyard!"

Francis seemed mildly surprised. Alice continued, "And you drank m-my blood, too! And now you've kidnapped me and taken me to this strange place… On top of that, I have school today! What will my parents think? They'll call the police, I'm sure! You'll be arrested for kidnapping and assault, and… and..." Not letting Alice finish, Francis swiftly approached her, grasping her chin with a firm hand but lifting it up gently to make eye contact. Alice squirmed with discomfort. His blue eyes were so captivating…

"Do not speak unless you are spoken to," Francis ordered sharply. "Do I make myself clear?"

Alice's face contorted with anger. "What is your problem?" she snapped. "You can't tell me what to do!"

Before Francis could react, Elizabeta cut in. "U-um… are you going to give her the same rules that you gave to Arthur?"

The vampire released Alice to turn his head, slowly—ever so slowly—and gave Elizabeta a hard, cold stare. "Who is Arthur?" he inquired, a hint of a growl sneaking into the icy tone of his voice.

"Sorry," Elizabeta murmured, backing away. Quickly turning, she left, closing the door behind her.

Francis turned back to Alice. "I won't give you any second chances," he said quietly. "Talking back to me just a moment ago was the only exception to my rules. But starting the instant after I go over my rules, you will be punished severely for breaking any one of them. Understood, darling?"

Confused, Alice hesitantly said, "I-I guess, but—"

"First rule: You will address me as 'Master.' There are no exceptions." He didn't wait for a response before continuing. "Second rule: If you try and harm me in any way, you will be punished cruelly. Third, you will show upmost respect to every member of this household. Fourth: As my pet, you will do as I say, promptly, with no questions asked. Hesitate and you will be punished. Fifth: Disrespect towards your Master will not be tolerated in the least. That means no talking back to me or insulting me." He smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile. "If you talk about me behind my back, I have my ways of finding out, trust me. Sixth: You are not allowed outside of this house. _Period_. Seventh: You will not express affection to anyone but your dear, loving Master. Failure to follow any of these rules will result in very harsh punishment and as I said before, you will get no second chances." With that, Francis stepped back, reaching into the inside of his coat to pull out a whip. Alice squeaked in horror and backed up a few paces. "…So now that we've been over my rules," Francis began again, smirking while stretching out the whip with both hands. "Would you like to talk back to me again, my pet?"

Terrified now, Alice shook her head. Francis tsk'd in disappointment. "Pet, you must reply with 'No, Master.'" He toyed with the weapon in his hands for a moment. "So, strip."

"What!" Alice exclaimed.

"Do not question me," Francis hissed suddenly, cracking the whip in the air. Alice cried out and flinched. "I said, strip. Simply removing your shirt and bra will suffice, but do it now."

Tears brimmed in Alice's eyes as she reluctantly removed her shirt—but she made no move to take off her bra. Francis glowered.

"Now."

Alice turned her whole body away from the vampire as she slowly unhooked the back of her bra, letting it fall to the ground as she covered her bare breasts with her arms.

CRACK!

Alice uttered a shriek as the whip came down on her back, and losing her balance, she collapsed to her knees.

"How pitiful," Francis sniffed. "Just one lash and you're already kneeling." Then, he proceeded to beat her several times, barely letting the stinging pain of one lash sink in before striking her again.

Once he had finished, Francis tucked the whip back into his inner coat pocket and crouched down beside Alice. Tears streamed down her face, and her breathing was shallow. She didn't even seem to notice the vampire beside her. "You see," Francis whispered. "That's what happens when you defy me. No second chances. No mercy. Is this clear to you?"

Barely able to speak, Alice nodded. Francis stood up, and to her horror, he drew his whip out again and lashed her back a few more times. She uttered another cry and hung her head low, clenching her teeth. "You address me as 'Master,'" Francis growled, the whip pitilessly coming down on her back. "The proper answer the question is 'Yes, Master.'"

"Y-yes," Alice choked out. "Aah… Master!"

The whipping instantly ceased. Francis put away his whip again and sighed. "Now tell me, sweetheart. Do you understand my rules?"

Alice hiccupped and wiped away her tears with one hand. "Yes, Master," she managed to say.

Francis nodded approvingly. "Good job," he praised. "Now, the next thing on our agenda is finding you some proper clothes. The ones that you have on now simply don't suit a young lady like yourself. I do have some lovely dresses in the attic—a bit dusty, but they should fit someone your size. Well, how about you just stay here while I find a dress that will suit you." He smiled darkly. "Don't you dare leave this room. And don't go on the bed, either. I don't want my white sheets bloodied up." He left, closing the door behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>So many line breaks! Anyways, don't bother asking why Gilbert was trying to deal with a mouse infestation with a knife. He's Gilbert. Who cares anyways. Also, Arthur is homeless and Alice is Francis's new pet, yay.<strong>

**I love you all for reviewing! Reviews make me so happy! Especially the long ones! **  
><strong>Also, I would like to recognize England11247 for cosplaying scenes from my story! We are married now. I love her. The pictures can be found on her tumblr page, ValoreCosplay<strong>

**Please review! Thanks!**


	16. The Rising Sun and the Cold Rain

Arthur eyed the shoes and coat with surprise. "You're giving these to me?" he asked. Ludwig nodded, but Arthur handed the two items back to the werewolf. "I'm sorry, but I could never accept such nice things."

"Please, take them," Ludwig urged. "It's the least I can do for not letting you stay with us longer."

"You've already given me food and a place to stay," Arthur informed the blond werewolf. "That's more than I should ask of you."

Ludwig shook his head. "Nonsense. You'll take these with you when you leave."

"Vee…" Feliciano said sadly. "I don't want Arthur to leave… He's so nice. I want to make him a werewolf, like us, so he can stay here forever."

"Yes, but this is his choice, not yours," Ludwig reminded his partner gently. "Speaking of which, Arthur…"

"Hm?"

"Why do you insist on remaining a human?" Ludwig paused and gave Arthur an almost sympathetic look. "Don't tell me you actually plan to return to Francis's after all of this."

Arthur hesitated to respond. He was almost positive that his former Master would never take him back, but Arthur somehow still had feelings for him. Francis may have tortured him, forced him to become his loyal pet, taken away everything from him, but… He had cared for Arthur and shown him love, something that Arthur had never really felt before. And Arthur loved him back.

"I don't want to forget him," Arthur murmured, hugging his own body, wishing that Francis was there to embrace him. "I do still love him. And as long as there's a chance…"

Before Arthur could finish, Ludwig cut in. "Are you sure that what you felt was love?"

Arthur blinked up at him. "Huh?"

* * *

><p>"You can't expect me to seriously wear a corset," Alice said with disgust, eyeing the clothes that had been laid across the bad. She had put back on her shirt to cover her body, and even though it rubbed against her back, hurting it, she didn't want to take it off again.<p>

"Of course I do," Francis replied. "Back in the day, all young women such as you wore corsets and lovely dresses such as this one." He motioned to the frilly, low-cut pink and white dress that looked like something out of the Victorian era. Ribbons and lace decorated most of the dress.

"B-but that's…" Alice trailed off, having no words to describe the dress. "So… old. It's gross. I can't wear something that went out of style a hundred years ago."

"Out of style? _Gross?_" Francis appeared to be appalled. "You call this beauty gross? It was one of the loveliest and most expensive of the time!" However, his shocked expression cleared quickly. "You'll get used to clothes like this, though. You'll wear them every day from now on. So, we'll have to get you into the corset first."

Alice's eyes widened. "Every day?" she echoed in disbelief. "Why can't I just wear my regular clothes?"

The vampire gave her a look like she was stupid. "It's not proper for a woman to wear a T-shirt and pants," he responded, picking up the corset. "You must wear dresses, dear."

"But can you even call me a woman?" Alice protested, and she blatantly added, "I'm only a teenager!"

Francis was surprised. "Still a teen? My, you don't look it. How old are you?"

"Sixteen." Alice looked defensive, as if she would lash out if Francis made a remark. But the vampire only shrugged.

"You looked twenty. Oh well, I do prefer younger ones."

Alice glowered at Francis, but fear danced in the back of her eyes. "J-just what do you plan to do to me?" she demanded, forcing her voice to not tremble.

"I do what I please," Francis replied with a smirk. "And let me tell you, sweetheart, you're in no place to defy me. I am your Master and if you don't do as I say, I'll punish you again. You know how that works."

His response was silence. Alice was staring at the ground, remembering the agony of the whip coming down on her back.

"Now," Francis instructed. "Off with that horrid shirt."

"Please," Alice started, blushing. "I don't want you to see—"

"Off with it," Francis snarled.

"Francis—I mean, Master—"

"DO IT NOW!" Francis roared, taking out his whip and cracking it in the air. The startling noise caused Alice to cry out and fall to the floor as a means of avoiding the cruel weapon. She cowered there for a moment, shaking. "When your kind and forgiving Master says to do something, you do it."

Nearly in tears, Alice slowly stood up, turning away to take off her shirt.

"Face me."

She froze. The whip cracked, and she quickly turned around. "Now," Francis said, a little softer. "Take it off now, _s'il vous plait._"

Hands trembling, she slowly lifted up her shirt, face red. She let it fall to the floor, and she didn't make eye contact.

"That's good," Francis said with a curt nod. "You shouldn't be afraid to face your Master, dear. It will make me think that you're… avoiding me. But you, my darling new pet, would never do that, would you?" He smiled. "You would never avoid me. You would never leave me or run off. Ever."

* * *

><p>"I think that Francis is trying to forget Arthur," Elizabeta murmured to Gilbert, licking her lips nervously.<p>

"Huh?" Gilbert muttered, glancing to Elizabeta. "Forget him? What?"

Elizabeta looked to the door anxiously as if she expected Francis to be on the other side, listening. "Keep your voice down," she whispered. "He might hear us."

Gilbert didn't seem to care. "I'll deal with him if he comes in."

"…He's torn out your eye with one hand."

"It'll grow back."

"That's not my point."

"Whatever. So what do you mean by 'forget him?'"

Elizabeta paused. "See… When I asked him if he was going to give the same rules to his new pet that he did to Arthur, he gave me a really mean look and said, 'Who's Arthur?'"

Gilbert grimaced, lips twitching in disgust. "What a bastard," he muttered. "And that really doesn't sound like Francis. He loved Arthur. A _lot_. Physically, too." Elizabeta made a face, but Gilbert ignored it. "I'll have to have a talk with him."

"You'll do no such thing," Elizabeta scolded, sounding like a mother speaking to her child. "I have a feeling that Francis won't tolerate anyone bringing up Arthur in a conversation."

"To hell with that," Gilbert snorted contemptuously. "I'll beat him up, I swear it, I will."

"Fine. I'm not responsible for your injuries." Elizabeta's voice was cool.

"…Wait, I can't blame you if he hurts me?"

"Of course not!"

"Damn it, then." Gilbert stood up from the bed. "Well, I'm off to talk some sense into that French bastard. See you later, girlie."

"Don't call me that!"

Gilbert laughed and headed into Francis's room, throwing open the door and storming right up to the blond vampire. "I heard through the grapevine that you're trying to forget—" He broke off, just now seeing Alice, who was wearing her corset, tears streaming down her cheeks and her breath irregular. However, Gilbert only seemed to notice her body. "Ooh, hello, beautiful!" He whistled. "Don't suppose I could get a chance with her, Francis?"

"Instead of ogling my pet," Francis cut in sharply. "Continue with what you were going to say first."

Gilbert chuckled, a little nervously. "Oh, right, sorry. As I was saying, Eliza told me that you were trying to forget Arthur."

Francis's level gaze betrayed no emotion in his empty blue eyes. "I don't have the slightest clue as to what you're speaking of, Gilbert."

"Oh, come on!" Gilbert exclaimed incredulously. "Do you seriously plan to forget all about him?"

"Forget who?" Now Francis's eyes were glittering, like diamonds under the sun, showing his amusement in this little game that he was playing. "If you're here to only talk nonsense, please leave."

Gilbert glowered at him, his one red eye narrowed viciously with the intent of murdering Francis if he didn't get a response that satisfied him. "You know who I'm talking about, Francis. _Arthur._ The guy who you wrote so passionately about in your diary. The guy that you love with all of your ice-cold heart."

"You must be delusional." Francis was not persuaded by Gilbert's words.

"I'm not."

"Please leave, anyways." Francis turned away from him. "I was just helping my pet into her clothes. You shouldn't have barged into the room in the first place."

Gilbert did not budge. "I won't go until you at least explain why you refuse to acknowledge Arthur's existence."

Francis's icy eyes narrowed with aggravation. "I do not know of anyone by that name. Gilbert, unless you would care to lose your other eye…" His clawed hand flexed in a grasping motion, as if he was already removing the eye in his mind. "…leave, now."

"U-um," Alice spoke up, her voice quivering. "I-if you don't mind me asking, what happened to your eye, sir?"

"Oh, uh, it was—" Gilbert was cut off by a furious growl from Francis.

"Did I not tell you before," he hissed to Alice. "That you will show upmost respect to the other members of this household? Do not speak unless you are spoken to and if you feel it is absolutely necessary to pose a question to someone of a higher status then you, I demand that you must prostate yourself before him and ask permission first." Then, he withdrew his whip from his coat, and Alice whimpered with fear, cowering back.

Naturally, Gilbert was shocked. Francis had never punished Arthur for not doing such an over the top show of respect to him or Antonio. He had changed his rules into stricter, pointless ones. Angered, Gilbert lunged forward and snatched the whip from Francis's hands before he could strike Alice with it. "Don't you dare," Gilbert snapped. "She was respectful enough for me, okay? She's certainly more polite than Elizabeta would ever be. And speaking of that, to answer your politely posed question from before, Alice, your asshole of a master tore the damn thing out of its socket and burned it because he was trying to get me to tell him Arthur's whereabouts at the time!" He turned his glare back to Francis, a cocky grin resting on his face. A tongue flickered out from his gleaming white teeth, swiping over his lips. "So fuck you. You're just cruel and cold and too hard on your new pet."

Francis's eyes, once blue, now flashed deep scarlet. "We have a deal," he growled softly, his tone of voice lowering to a point that it sounded threatening. "You cannot tell me how I discipline my pets."

"And what if I broke the pact?" Gilbert challenged boldly. "What then?"

"You would be dead not too long before I kill your dear Elizabeta."

"You wouldn't dare," Gilbert hissed.

Francis shrugged, eyes clearing up to its normal color. "I will do exactly that if you try and break our pact, Gilbert. Now give me my whip and leave. Immediately, _s'il vous plait_."

Gilbert hesitated, but reluctantly handed the other vampire his weapon before leaving. With a final, sympathetic glance to Alice, he closed the door behind him, once again leaving Alice alone with the vampire.

"No use," Gilbert announced, entering his own room again where Elizabeta waited for him. "Francis really is intent on dismissing any thought of Arthur. Also, he really does seem to be taking out his anger on the new pet. And, something really weird; he looks like shit. I know he's dead and all, but his skin looks even paler than usual."

Elizabeta nodded in agreement, her face solemn. Her hand was on her chin and she looked deep in thought as she murmured, "Remember, he didn't go hunting for the two weeks that Arthur was gone. Alice was his first meal in a long time, and he didn't take enough of her blood to fully satisfy him. He's probably starved by now. And obviously, he's trying to erase Arthur from his memory, but it must be that he's angry that he can't, so he's lashing out at the innocent girl." She paused, then gazed up at Gilbert with jade eyes filled with pain and understanding. "He still loves Arthur, I'm sure of it."

Gilbert looked down for a moment, but snapped his head back up, a gleam in his eyes. "I've got it! We can pin Francis down and make him confess his love for Arthur and then we go get Arthur and they'll be together again!"

"And where do you plan to get Arthur from?" Elizabeta cut in. "Not to mention getting the strength for taking on someone as strong as Francis."

Gilbert pouted. "Then… how about this—we capture Alice, you know, when Francis is out, and when he comes back then we'll threaten to kill her if he doesn't confess!"

Elizabeta glowered at him. "What if he refuses to confess?"

Gilbert gave her a blank stare. "We kill her," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Elizabeta's response was smacking him on the head with her frying pan that she kept by the bed.

"Think these things through before you say them!" Elizabeta scolded. "You can't lay a finger on Alice without Francis's permission, which I'm sure would be very difficult to obtain considering your motive is to threaten her life! So think of something better or shut up."

* * *

><p>"Of course I love him," Arthur insisted firmly while Ludwig faced him with a solemn expression. Arthur continued, "He's my Master. He's given me love and care."<p>

"Is it really possible to love someone," Ludwig started. "Who tortures you so cruelly and has taken your life from you the day you were kidnapped off the streets?"

"Obviously, it is," Arthur said stubbornly, folding his arms across his chest.

Ludwig narrowed his piercing, sky-blue eyes. "Again, are you sure that you really love him?"

"Yes." Arthur would not change his answer. But Ludwig would not change his question.

"Did Francis happen to have a… tragic past? Say, did something horrible happen to him when he was a human?"

Arthur was startled by the question. What did it have to do with his love? "Y-yes, he did," he hesitantly.

"Please, describe to me what happened."

Arthur's initial reaction was to refuse. His Master's past was not for him to share publically. The powerful, cold vampire probably wouldn't want his secret past to get out, so everyone would know that his first love had died and yet he still loved her and could not get over her death. On the other hand, Arthur trusted Ludwig, and he knew that if the werewolf wanted to find out something about Arthur or Francis, it would be used to the human's benefit. "When… my Master was human," Arthur began, choosing each word carefully. "Was deeply in love with a girl. They got engaged, but not long before their wedding, she was murdered by her brother… Soon after the murder, Francis was turned into a vampire, and he used that chance to kill his fiancé's brother, to avenge her… but he still misses her." Arthur finished his tale quickly, falling silent immediately afterwards.

Ludwig folded his arms across his chest, giving him a serious, cold look, but sympathy was clearly shown on his expression. "How sad. I pity him, I really do. Though, that only convinces me more that you don't love Francis." Arthur opened his mouth to object, but shut it as Ludwig continued. "The way I see it, you feel sorry for Francis, and you want to be with him, comfort him because of it. Another reason you may have been fooled is his beauty." He blushed a little. "I know, he's a gorgeous vampire. But… you're probably being deceived. I wonder though, a third reason is that you had never felt love before, and this feels right to have someone that cares for you, no matter how much you're tortured… Maybe you were a bit desperate for someone when Francis came along?"

Now it was Arthur's turn to blush. "I wasn't interested in romance at the time…"

"At least not when you were kidnapped," Ludwig added for him. "But perhaps your interest was sparked after he made love to you."

"Y-you're wrong," Arthur interrupted. "I'm not with him just for the physical…" he coughed, stopping himself from finishing the sentence. "And I do love him, Ludwig. You're wrong."

"Don't lie to yourself—"

"I'm leaving," Arthur abruptly said, backing away. "Thank you for letting me stay, but I'll be off now." He paused for a moment, and then took off the shoes that had been generously given to him. "You can have these back as well."

Ludwig was dumfounded, confused by what Arthur was doing. "You can't go back out on the street without shoes or even socks," he said. "And what of the coat?"

Arthur's response was a quick shake of his head as he said, "I don't want it, but thank you." With that, he hurried out the door before Ludwig could stop him.

_Ludwig is lying_, he thought, hurrying through the street. At least it wasn't raining. _I do love Francis. Why did my Master have to throw me out…? I want him back_.

* * *

><p>Date: July 4, 1980<p>

Why did I make him leave?

I want to forget him. He hates me. There was no point in making him love me anymore, though. Even if I love him,

On a different note, Alice has improved a bit today. I plan to give her speech and etiquette lessons tomorrow. With the assistance of my whip, she learns quickly. Earlier, she addressed me as a "blood-sucking freak." As a slightly different form of punishment, I gave her a few lashings and made her repeat the insult several more times. Each time she said it, she got beaten more and more. Soon she was on the floor, breath heavy, her shoulders covered with blood, begging for mercy. She probably wants to run away.

Pity, though, that she'll be here until her death.

* * *

><p>Francis put away his diary, hiding it inside the cookbook where no one but Gilbert would think to look. He started for the door, remembering that he had told Alice that he would meet her in the bedroom at ten o'clock. That would leave no time for hunting tonight, but he was satisfied just drinking from his new pet. Looking at the clock, he saw that the time was 9:55. Five minutes.<p>

He wandered back to the bookshelf, taking out his diary and scanning the bookshelf for a good place to hide it. Well, a good temporary place would be between two books on the highest shelf. He circled around to the shelf that was closest to the wall and climbed up it, slipping the paper booklet into the space between an English dictionary and a French thesaurus. Rarely did anyone in this house use such books, and if they did they would probably look at the ones on the lower shelves. What a perfect hiding spot.

Smiling to himself, Francis strode out of the library, turning off the lights on his way out and closing the door behind him.

In the bedroom, Francis found Alice sitting on the bed, and although she was gorgeous in her Victorian-style dress and frilly collar, her blond hair re-tied with silky red ribbons. However, her eyes brimmed with misery as she gazed up at the vampire and said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I want to go home."

Francis closed the bedroom door and approached the bed, sitting next to Alice and running his fingers through her golden hair. "_Ma chérie_, this is your home. This is where you live now."

"No," Alice moaned softly, tears now visible in her green eyes. "I can't live here… I miss my sister, my parents, and my friends from school…" Her voice turned bitter as she continued. "I hate this place. I hate these clothes; I hate being punished for little things that I do wrong—"

"And you hate me," Francis finished for her, his voice gently soothing. "I know, darling. But this is for your own good. Soon you'll be a proper young lady and we can live here together peacefully." He slipped his hands down to start to take off her dress, pleased when he received no reaction from her.

"B-but I don't want to be a proper lady," Alice sniffled. "I want to be normal."

"This is normal," Francis assured her, surprised when he found that he could take off her dress easily. "You're my pet, darling. I am your Master." He laid the dress on the floor and cupped the teary-eyed girl's face with icy hands. He looked down at her body, though, rather than in her eyes. "Come now, we should get you out of that corset. It must be uncomfortable; and anyways, it would get in the way, don't you think?"

Alice's eyes widened, a single tear falling down her cheek as she did so. "Just what do you plan to do to me?" she whispered.

Francis didn't reply, only working on undoing the laces on the corset, but upon removing it, Alice hastily covered her chest with her arms, a rosy blush coming to her face. "Please," Francis sighed, as if exasperated. "Move your arms. We can't play this game forever, _ma chérie_."

When Alice did nothing but give him a terrified stare, Francis sighed again and proceeded to remove his own coat. "I can wait, but not for long." Her whole body trembling, Alice slowly moved her arms away, face red with embarrassment and shame as she exposed her bare breasts to the vampire.

"Good girl," Francis praised, taking off his shirt. Alice blushed even deeper upon seeing Francis shirtless; he had an almost lean body, but a few muscles in the right places. Francis smirked a little, seeing Alice's eyes on him, and pushed her down onto the bed, licking his lips hungrily. Alice whimpered and flinched back a little.

"Please don't rape me," she said softly.

"It's not rape," he replied, kissing her lips tenderly for a moment before taking a rough turn, biting down and licking the blood that followed. She had sweet blood, even if it wasn't the best he'd had. "You'll enjoy this, I promise," he murmured, breaking the kiss. "I can make you scream and beg for more."

* * *

><p>Arthur hugged his knees to his chest and stared out into the streets. Not many people were out during this time of night in the rain, and only a few cars drove by. Shivering, Arthur pressed his forehead to his knees, praying for the rain to stop soon. His clothes were damp, sticking to his skin and only making him colder, while beads of rainwater clung to his now dirty bangs and dripped to the ground. It was too cold to sleep, and he was hungry besides. He hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast at Ludwig and Feliciano's. Tired, cold, and starved with no one to turn to now, he closed his eyes and prayed that the sun would rise for him tomorrow.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you, but as an added note, "Please continue" is not a review... Am I repeating myself? I hope not; I feel like I am though.<strong>  
><strong>Ah, well.<strong>  
><strong>I have one or two more chapters to go. Who wants to bet what happens to Alice in the next chapter? Haha... *coughs* Aah... Well, I actually started my prequel. The writing style is so awful I can't believe it was my hand creating it, though. Geez... Anyways... <strong>  
><strong>The sun that Arthur thinks of, meaning waking up in the morning alive, may be referenced later... X3 <strong>

**As an added note, no more: **  
><strong>Iggy<strong>  
><strong>Alfred<strong>  
><strong>Werewolves<strong>

**Sorry!**  
><strong>Please please please reviewwwwww~ I love reviews~ So much~ I freak out when I see more than one in my inbox~ <strong>

**-G**

**~~I'd like to take this moment to thank some very amazing people as well.  
>BeyondBeleif13<br>Glowstick145  
>Bururu<br>England11247**

**And many others! I love you all!  
>Artwork can be found at xxkuramaxx deviantART pagegbtiger deviantART page  
>and i post a crapton of stuff on my facebook but that's private unless i know you in real life or trust you :)<strong>


	17. Warmth and Comfort

**There seems to have been a great misunderstanding... when I said that there wouldn't be anymore of Iggy in the story, I did in fact mean the kitten and not the person. Arthur is the main character, you guys! What makes you think I would just leave him on the streets! I'm not that kind of evil...  
>...I'm like ten times more evil than that. Mwahahaha...<strong>

(also please excuse my cryptic answer of, "things will get better." This is the chapter where everyone is happy)

* * *

><p>Francis ran his fingers over the silky, golden hair, petting it lovingly as he held Alice on his lap, her head flopped over on her shoulder after Francis had tried to prop her up to have her lean on his chest. It was a pity, truly it was, that she had fallen asleep so soon. He lifted her chin with one hand, looking down at her and trailing his hand over her pale, now icy cold cheek. She seemed to peaceful now, her elegant long lashes covering her once brilliant green eyes. He kissed her lips, gently, before running his fingers through her hair again. It was truly beautiful. He would have loved to keep it for himself.<p>

Gently, he laid her limp body across the bed, picking up the dress from the floor and bringing it over to her. He found it difficult to clothe her since she lay lifeless, her body like a ragdoll; uncooperative as he attempted to slip the dress on her. He finally managed to do so, but he was satisfied when he was done. Next, he went to tie back her hair again into the two pigtails that gave a charming, but not childish air to her. He had been careful not to lay her body on the horrifically large bloodstains on the sheets and pillows as that would needlessly dirty her angelic, pale flesh.

Francis glanced up when three knocks came from the bedroom door. "Francis? It's Eliza. I know it's a bit early in the morning, but…"

"Just a moment," Francis called, standing up to unlock the door and let the woman inside.

"I was wondering, for whatever plans you had for Alice today…" Elizabeta's voice slowly trailed away as she went further into the room, eyes transfixed on the bloodied white bed that Alice lay on, unmoving. Appalled and disgusted, she backed away, both hands covering her mouth. Her cheeks were ashen and colorless and her eyes widened as she whispered, "She's dead."

"She is," Francis acknowledged with a casual dip of his head.

Elizabeta turned her gaze to the bloodstains. "That's horrible," she said quietly, her face now a sickly green.

Francis came over to the bed, leaning down and kissing Alice's cold cheek sweetly. "But she's gorgeous, _non?_"

"I'm going to be sick," Elizabeta stated, turning promptly and running from the room.

Francis merely picked up Alice's body in his arms, cradling her for a moment before heading out. He could keep her in his room no longer, as she would only decay and attract flies and rats. He could move her to the basement maybe, where the rats were welcome to eat her flesh. Then, only a skeleton would remain, which is when the vampire would position her down there to frighten anyone he brought down there to torture. Or, maybe he could dispose of the skeleton and only take the skull, perhaps as a special decoration on the mantle above the fireplace in the library.

"Hey!" A voice came from behind Francis just as he was about to head down the stairs. It was Antonio, with Lovino following close behind. The Italian rubbed his eyes sleepily while in contrast his vampire master was as perky and cheerful as ever. "Where are you going, Francis?"

"Oh, is that the pretty girl?" Lovino asked sleepily, glancing at Alice. "Is she asleep—"

"Is she dead?" Antonio questioned bluntly, looking up at Francis with wide eyes.

"_Oui._"

Lovino stared for a moment, and then leapt into Antonio's arms, uttering a piercing scream of "CHIGI!" His whole body quivered with fear and he squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to look at Alice.

"It's okay, Lovi," Antonio murmured, carrying Lovino back to their room. "You don't have to see that anymore… I know, you don't like dead people… Cheer up, okay? Fusosososo…. Fusososososo…."

Francis went on his way, and entering the basement, he closed the door behind him and slowly stepped down the stairs that led to the torture room, taking them one at a time. Then, with great care, he laid Alice on the wooden table before going over to move the cabinet of torture instruments, opening up the heavy door that led into the darkest room. He carried Alice into it, laying her body down on the floor next to the chair that sat in the center of the room. The squeaks of rats could be heard, and Francis left, closing the door and moving the cabinet back so that nothing looked out of place at all. No one but him used the room; he doubted that anyone would find her there.

He had a strange feeling that Alice would be forgotten in that dark, lonely room.

Coming up the stairs, Francis heard an obnoxiously loud voice call his name from the balcony. He glanced up, seeing Gilbert. "Hey, Francis! Eliza told me that you killed Alice! Is that true?" His voice was accusing like he was angry.

Calmly, Francis replied, "_Oui_, but not on purpose."

Gilbert made a disgusted face. "That's creepy, man. Remind me not to have sex with you. Like, ever again. Anyways, Eliza's in the bathroom, being depressed about it. Before that she was puking her guts out. Seeing her body must have really freaked her out."

"She's seen dead bodies before," Francis pointed out.

"Yeah, but not close up at the scene of the disgusting crime," Gilbert said scathingly, clearly upset about Alice's death. "I saw the blood on your bed, too. Seriously, could you be a little messy next time? And what a waste of blood, too."

Francis shrugged and opened up the coat closet by the front door, retrieving long black raincoat. "It shouldn't be a problem for you," he said, his voice still level. "You're not the one cleaning it up. I assure you though, when I return I'll take care of it promptly." He picked up a large black umbrella, big enough for two people to fit under before closing the closet door.

Gilbert scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll just stay out of your room. Oh, wait, where are you going?"

"Out," was the ambiguous reply.

The albino snorted. "Duh. Out where?"

"Just into town," Francis said, opening the front door to be faced by pouring down rain. "There's something that belongs to me that I want to pick up."

* * *

><p>Arthur nodded a quick thank you to the man who stopped for a moment to drop two coins into his cup. Looking up, he noticed that there were more people walking under the awning on the other side of the street. If he moved over there, looking pitiful, perhaps he could get more money. Picking up his Styrofoam cup and covering the top of it to keep the money inside dry with the palm of his hand; he started over to the street, waiting for the cars to pass so he could cross. However, a sudden wave of muddy rainwater came down upon him, a car that had been speeding by splashing through a puddle that sent the water spraying over Arthur.<p>

_Damn my luck_, Arthur thought, angrily shaking the water from his hair. Though, what was the point? He was standing in the rain anyways. Quickly, he made his way across the street, relieved once he was under the waning. However, upon sitting down and placing his cup beside him, he realized that most of the people that had been there before had already passed, and now the other side of the street had more pedestrians. With a sigh, he buried his head in his knees and prayed that a miracle might happen to him. Maybe God would take pity on him and let him die soon. Hopefully he would get hit by a car or something. As long as it ended his suffering.

"How pitiful," remarked a cool voice from above him. Without looking up, Arthur could tell that the person was looking down on him, probably come to make snide remarks about his awful situation. But, perhaps he wouldn't mind it so much, as this person sounded a bit like Francis, with a low voice and even a French accent. He calmly waited for the insults to begin.

The man let out a small laugh of amusement, but it wasn't mocking, which almost surprised Arthur. "You look like a drowned rat. Odd, how just a few days earlier you were a perfect, neatly dressed British gentleman."

Arthur's eyes widened as he stared at the ground. He was shocked; not at the man's comments about his appearance, nor how he seemed to know Arthur. There was no mistaking the voice, the one with that lovely, almost seductive ring to it. Slowly, Arthur lifted his head, seeing fancy shoes and black pants at first, then the bottom of a long black coat. As his gaze traveled upwards, he saw the pale, bony hand clutching the handle of an umbrella; stubble on the chin; shoulder length blond hair; and ice blue eyes that glittered as if he was amused.

He had no words to say. Should he address him as his master or not, since Francis had basically exiled him from the mansion? So, he said nothing, staring up at Francis and waiting for the vampire to speak first.

Francis crouched down beside Arthur, meeting him at eye level. His lips were pulled into a smirk. "You probably didn't miss me," he began, his voice a quiet murmur. Despite the smile on his face, he seemed to be feeling something other than delight. "You probably hate me, too. But to start, I wanted to come here and tell you that I was wrong." Arthur gave Francis a curious look, silently asking for him to continue. "I was… just angry that I couldn't make you love me." He rubbed his forehead, sighing and looking a bit embarrassed. "You did say that you loved me. I should have listened. But instead I could only hear my own voice in my head, telling me that I should hate you. Once you had gone, I tried to… forget you. I attempted to convince myself that you had never existed, and to, well, make things worse, I had tried to take in another pet. Yesterday was her first day." He paused before adding, "She was dead by morning. I was so desperate to have an obedient pet, I beat her harshly and was far too rough on her last night. And I was just… just…" He broke off, staring into Arthur's eyes, and the human could see clearly how honest the vampire was being. Human emotion is what swirled in those sapphire eyes, and he was clearly not the manipulative creature that he once was. "…I just love you," Francis finally managed to get out. "And I want you back."

Brushing his wet bangs from his forehead, Arthur said, very softly, "Master?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"…Can I have you back as well?"

Francis threw his arms around Arthur's neck, embracing him tightly, and the chill of his skin felt as warm and welcoming as an open fire in the middle of a snowstorm.

* * *

><p>Arthur stepped over the threshold and into the mansion, thankful to be in a nice, warm house again. Finally, he could take a hot shower, dry off, sleep in a comfy bed, and wake up next to his Master…<p>

"Arthur!" came a voice from upstairs. Elizabeta ran down the stairs, and before could even see her face, she crashed into him, nearly knocking him over as she hugged him tightly. Very tightly.

"P-please let go!" Arthur said, pleased that he had been missed, but he was finding it hard to breathe. "I-I can't breathe!"

Elizabeta gave a small laugh of joy as she released Arthur, jade eyes sparkling happily. "I'm so glad you're back, Arthur! I…" She broke off, seeing Francis eyeing her. "Oh, sorry, Francis…"

To Arthur's surprise, his Master smiled warmly. "It's alright. I don't mind. But Elizabeta, dear, could you go and get a towel for Arthur? He's completely soaked."

Elizabeta seemed surprised as well, but she nodded and smiled, hurrying to the linen closet upstairs.

Francis turned back to Arthur and smiled. "I'll make you some hot tea, and while it's cooling enough for you to drink we can get you changed into some dry, comfortable clothes."

"Thank you, Master."

"Well, if it isn't Arthur!" Gilbert exclaimed, entering the room with a big grin on his face. "How have you been, kid?"

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but Francis beat him to it. "Arthur is cold, tired and hungry, no doubt, from living in the streets for several days. See if you can guess how he's been." Instead of the tone of voice Arthur would have expected to hear with those words, however, Francis sounded rather amused.

Gilbert's response was a chuckle. "You've got a point there. Anyways, welcome home, Arthur. Oh, I've got a great idea! We can get some beer and celebrate him coming back! Yeah!"

Francis shook his head. "_Non_, I'd rather not. You can have some beer yourself, though. I plan to take Arthur out tonight to a nice restaurant." Arthur glanced up at Francis, almost suspicious now. Francis was being exceptionally nice to him. Could it be that was just in a really good mood, or was it something else? "Come now, Arthur," Francis said, beckoning for his pet to follow him into the kitchen. "Would like some Earl Grey? Black? Jasmine?"

Arthur followed his Master, sticking close to the vampire's side. He was very happy to be back with Francis again, and he never wanted to leave him. Another reason he was staying so close was because he was worried. Francis might have been ill, which would explain his kindness. He would keep a close eye on him.

"Oh… You're probably hungry as well, aren't you? I doubt you had much to eat while you were out there…"

The young man shrugged, watching Francis as he got out a teabag from the cupboard and started to boil some water in the kettle over the stove. "Well, I did stay with Ludwig and Feliciano for a night. They fed me while I was there."

At Arthur's words, Francis's body visibly stiffened. He dropped the teacup that he had been holding, and it instantly shattered on the tiled kitchen floor. Arthur flinched at the loud noise and stepped away a pace from the scattered, broken shards. Francis's eyes drifted over the mess, then to Arthur. No longer cheerful, the two ocean-blue orbs were cold as he said quietly, "Now look at what you've made me do. I've broken a teacup."

Seeing that he was the one who would be blamed, Arthur dropped quickly to his knees. "I apologize, Master," he said sincerely. "I'll clean this up right now." He began to pick out the biggest shards first and place them in the palm of his other hand, but before he could get any more than half of them, Francis nudged him with his foot.

"Stand."

Arthur did as he was told, rising to his feet and awaiting his Master's next orders. What Francis did, however, wasn't what Arthur expected. The vampire picked out a particularly sharp-looking shard from Arthur's hand and pulled back Arthur's sleeve, suddenly slashing it across his forearm.

The pain took a few seconds to sink in, and Arthur turned his head away as it started to bleed almost instantly, wincing a bit. Blood dripped down to the floor, a few drops of the scarlet liquid staining the white shards of the cup.

"After you clean up the mess," Francis said, retrieving another teacup and setting it on the counter. "Go bandage the wound. Go find Elizabeta, she was supposed to be down here earlier, but dry yourself off and change your clothes into whatever you like. I'll have some food and tea prepared for you. Try not to dawdle or else your tea will get cold."

Arthur clutched his bleeding arm and nodded. "Y-yes, Master." He quickly finished cleaning, using a small broom and dustbin to sweep up the smallest shards of what used to be the cup. As he headed upstairs, Elizabeta came up to him, holding a white towel. "I'm sorry I took so long, Arthur! I got caught up in a conversation with Antonio…" She handed him the towel, and he accepted it gratefully, drying off his hair as he walked to the bathroom. Elizabeta followed. "He said that Francis would be a little happier now that you're back… Since he was so frustrated and cold while you were gone."

"In what way?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Well… when he had, um, another pet, he was always angry with her for whatever reason and he gave her really strict rules. He—Francis—beat her so cruelly; and I don't think she had any time to eat any meals that day. A-and that night…" She swallowed, looking like she was trying to hold back tears. "…She was dead in the morning. She was so young, Arthur. Much younger than you. She was still in school, and she had a family…"

"I'm sorry," Arthur murmured sympathetically. He pulled back his sleeve and stuck his wounded arm under the sink, turning on the water and cringing as the chilly liquid ran over his wound."I really wish I hadn't been forced to leave. It sounds like I only caused trouble for everyone."

Elizabeta didn't reply right away. She was staring at Arthur's arm. "What happened?" she croaked out.

"Master cut me with a ceramic shard when I accidentally made him drop a teacup," Arthur explained, using a tissue to wipe the excess blood from his arm. He opened up the cabinet under the sink and took out some white gauze bandage. "It doesn't hurt too much, though. I've had worse, for sure."

Elizabeta was silent again for a few moments. At last, she whispered, "Why?"

"Pardon?" Arthur glanced up."

"Why do you love him—_How_ can you love someone like him? Y-you're protecting him!" Elizabeta's hands trembled at her sides. "Francis hurt you, and you protect him by saying that it doesn't hurt that much!" She took Arthur's arm in her hands and held it in front of the young man's face, showing him the wound clearly. "You're clearly in a lot of pain, Arthur! When he hurts you, you lie to me about how you really feel! I can't believe you!"

Arthur took his arm back and started to wrap it up. "I love my Master," was all he said.

Elizabeta stared at Arthur. "Fine," she murmured coldly. "I didn't really care about your wellbeing to begin with." She walked out of the bathroom.

* * *

><p>"How delightfully obedient you've become," Francis purred, running his fingers through Arthur's ashen blond hair while the human sat on his master's lap quietly. They were in the bedroom, relaxing on the large white bed, after Francis had changed the sheets, of course. Francis was contently petting Arthur's head, and Arthur rather enjoyed it. He leaned up against his Master's chest and closed his eyes, wondering if he would have time to take a nap before evening came. However, as if able to read his thoughts, Francis said, "Don't fall asleep just yet, <em>mon amour<em>." He tilted Arthur's head back and kissed his forehead sweetly. "We can't have you sleeping when the time to leave for dinner comes around, _oui?_"

Arthur yawned. Just thinking about sleeping made him tired. But he nodded. "Of course not, Master," he agreed. "I'll do my best to stay awake."

So they sat there, quietly, Francis petting and caressing Arthur. After a while, Arthur looked up. "Master?" He swallowed nervously, wondering if he should change his question at the last second.

"Yes, pet?"

"…Ludwig said that I don't love you."

One of Francis's hands, the fingers once caressing Arthur's cheek, stiffened. The vampire's claws dug into his skin, and Arthur flinched. "What…" the vampire said softly but menacingly. "What does that flea-bitten cur know of our relationship?"

Sensing danger, Arthur rose to his feet, quickly turning back and to face Francis before dropping to his knees. "I apologize, Master," he said sincerely. "He asked me about us…" He paused, deciding to leave out the part about Jeanne. "And I told him that you… had a sad past, and he told me that I didn't love you." Arthur felt Francis's hard glare boring down on him. "He said that I felt sorry for you."

"Stand," Francis's voice was blank, emotionless. Arthur couldn't tell if he was angry or not.

"I said, stand," Francis repeated. Arthur did so, looking directly at his Master. He didn't appear to be angry, though. His face softened a bit, and he said, "Don't look so frightened. I won't punish you."

Arthur was confused. Francis normally got angry when his pet spoke a single word to Ludwig, let alone tell him things about Francis. The logical conclusion was that the vampire had fallen ill while Arthur was gone. Arthur carefully approached Francis and pressed his own hand to Francis's forehead. "Can vampires get sick?" he asked, withdrawing his hand. His forehead was cold, as usual.

"Of course not," Francis replied. "Do you think I am?"

"…You're acting strangely," Arthur admitted. "Why didn't you punish me for talking with Ludwig?"

Francis sighed and beckoned for Arthur to come and sit down beside him again on the bed. Arthur did so. "Arthur, I've decided to stop punishing you so much. Maybe, something quick and not as painful for bigger things, but there… really isn't much of a point anymore. He brushed his long blond hair from his face and looked directly into Arthur's eyes. "If you really think that you love me, Arthur, then I can be sure that you won't betray me or leave me on your own accord. I needn't instill the fear into your mind that you'll be punished for defying me." Francis lifted Arthur's chin and the young man stared into the sapphire blue depths of the vampire's eyes. "You'll be happier this way, won't you?"

Arthur cautiously took Francis's hand in his own and leaned against his Master's chest. "If I'm with you, Master," he whispered. "Then I'll always be happy."

* * *

><p><strong>When I opened up my inbox yesterday I had 29 messages... 0_0 One was from my sister, one from a friend, and the rest from Fanfiction... HOLY CRAP GUYS SO MANY REVIEWS. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH. <strong>

**AND THIS IS NOT THE ENDING OF THE STORY THERE IS ONE MORE CHAPTER IF YOU'RE NOT READING THIS DON'T ASSUME THIS IS THE END OKAY  
>GUYS<br>OKAY  
>OKAY.<br>okay.  
>I'm done.<br>Thank you all so much for reading though :) I'm so sad to end the story... only one short chapter left D: D: D:**

-G


	18. When The Sun Sets

**To all of you optimists who expected a happy ending... well, good for you :)  
>This is the last chapter of Master and Pet. I'm so happy to finish, but I'm sad that I have to end this project! I've been working on it since March, and it was fun :) Thank you all for reading it and supporting me. I love you all.<br>Please don't hit me...**

* * *

><p>Francis delicately sipped his wine, his eyes on Arthur the whole time. The human sat across from him at the table, eating his salad while his own wineglass was left untouched. Around the two came the murmur of soft, polite chatter from other guests at the classy, expensive restaurant.<p>

"Aren't you going to drink?" Francis asked, motioning to the glass by Arthur.

Arthur was wary. "It's very expensive, isn't it? I couldn't have such a nice drink…"

Francis smirked, his eyes twinkling like stars. "Of course, you wouldn't want to waste it, either."

Arthur shook his head and picked up his glass. "No, Master." He raised it to his mouth, lips grazing the rim. It was good, far better than any wine he had ever had before. He didn't drink much, though, keeping in mind that it would be bad if he was drunk. Once, his friends took him out to a pub and he had apparently gotten extremely drunk and started yelling obnoxiously and making a huge scene, embarrassing his friends (though Arthur didn't remember a thing).

"Good, isn't it?" Francis purred. "It's Pinot Noir, one of my personal favorites." He leaned in a bit, smiling. "Now, every time you drink this, you'll remember this evening, our first date." He winked, and Arthur's eyes widened. This was a… date? So, did that mean that Arthur was Francis's partner now, instead of— "Though, you're still my pet," Francis added.

"Of course," Arthur murmured in response, finishing up in salad just in time for their fancy meal to arrive at the table.

* * *

><p>After the meal, Francis paid and left a generous tip for their waitress. He took Arthur's hand in his own and walked him out into the dark streets of London.<p>

Arthur started up the way that would lead them home, but Francis, to Arthur's surprise, tugged him back. "Not that way," he corrected, leading Arthur into a dark alleyway. Not even the moonlight shone in the shadows of the two buildings that created the alley. "We're going to take a slight detour," Francis announced quietly, bringing Arthur into the darkness and pushing him up against the wall. "Watching you eat made me very hungry, but after I'm finished, we'll just go straight through the alley and be on our way home."

Arthur pulled down the collar of his shirt and tilted his head to the side to expose his neck to the vampire. "Yes, Master."

"Good…" Francis leaned in, baring his pearl white fangs while searching for the perfect place to bite. Arthur flinched as two fangs sank into his neck, and he gripped Francis's coat tightly as pain spread through his neck.

"_Put your hands in the air now, vampire!_" An unfamiliar voice hit Arthur's ears, and to his surprise, Francis pulled out instantly, turning around sharply. Arthur looked with him; still clinging to Francis as he peered over his master's shoulder to see how had spoken. It was a man, probably in his early thirties or late twenties, wielding a pistol that was pointed at the two. "_I said put your hands in the air!_" the man repeated harshly.

Francis only smiled politely at the man. "I'm sorry, you must be mistaken," he said smoothly. "I was merely kissing my partner's neck."

"There's blood on his neck and your lips," the man pointed out.

Without batting an eye, Francis replied very seriously, "I am a passionate kisser."

The man glared at Francis angrily before whipping out from his belt what appeared to be a small radio. Holding a button down and lifting to his mouth, he said into it without taking his gaze off of Francis, "I've found the vampire. He was drinking a human's blood in the alley. Yes, I was right before when I said he was a blond. Shoulder-length hair, tied back with a ribbon… Over." He put away his device and smirked up at Francis. "My backup will be here soon. We'll take care of you, and create a safer city for us humans."

"Now, now… Let's avoid violence," Francis said calmly. He smiled. "We can just talk this out, _oui?_"

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the man cried out and took out his radio again. "The vampire is trying to put my under mind control! Hurry up and get over here, over!"

Francis sighed, exasperated. "There's just no reasoning with you, is there? Ah well, at least I tried." Arthur let go of Francis as the vampire started walking off into the street, opposite the way that they had come in. The human followed close behind at his Master's subtle hand signal.

"W-what the hell are you doing?" The man behind them demanded, his voice shaking a little. "You can't just walk away from me, a vampire hunter! I saw you drink that man's blood with my own eyes! You're a vampire! A _monster!_"

At that, Francis stopped. Slowly, he turned his head, hard blue eyes focused on the stranger. "Monster?" he whispered. He suddenly smirked, licking his bloodied, crimson lips. "A monster, you say? Not too sure I like the sound of that." He took a step back towards the man, whose eyes widened with fear. "Though, if you must label me, I prefer something classy, like, 'creature of the night,' or—"

BANG! The gun went off, and the bullet just grazed Francis's shoulder, tearing his coat. Although seemingly unharmed, Francis looked very surprised.

"My, my, I didn't think you actually had the guts to fire such a dangerous weapon," Francis said softly. "It seems as though you really do wish to kill me."

The man's hands were trembling with fear. "Damn it, I missed," he mumbled to himself.

The sound of footsteps brought Arthur's attention to the alley's entrance. Three other men came in, each equipped with a bag and pistols in their hands. From the other direction, two men and a woman ran in with the same equipment.

"Master," Arthur whispered. Francis didn't hear him. "_Master_," he repeated, a bit louder. Francis turned around. "We need to leave now, Master."

Francis nodded, seeing the crowd around them. "You're right," he agreed. "If they try and shoot us, you could end up hurt. Come, Arthur." He beckoned to his pet who obediently came to his side. Francis glanced up to the people around them. "Arthur and I will be leaving," he announced. "We didn't come here to fight. Unless it's necessary, we should avoid violence…"

The instant the vampire finished his sentence, several of the guns went off, bullets striking Francis's body—holes appeared in his chest, stomach, and arms. He stumbled back a few paces from the impact, wincing.

"_Master!_" Arthur dashed forwards, grabbing Francis's arm so he wouldn't fall over. "Are you alright, Master?"

"I'm fine," Francis replied. "Arthur, you have to leave. I can't risk your life."

Arthur shook his head stubbornly. "If you're saying that you want me to leave without you, I refuse."

Another bullet struck Francis's stomach. He cringed, backing up again. "You there… Arthur!" called the man who had first arrived to attack Francis. "Come here! Well kill the vampire so he can't hurt you anymore! We'll make him suffer for what he did to you! And if his bite will make you turn into a vampire, I promise that we will put you out of your misery!"

Arthur's eyes widened with fear. He didn't want his Master to die, nor did he want to go with his assailants. "I can't," he said, shaking his head.

"It's okay," the woman urged. "The vampire won't hurt you anymore. We have this under control. If you come with us, you'll be safe."

"I can't," Arthur repeated. "I can't leave my Master."

"He's under the vampire's mind control!" someone yelled out shrilly. "He's working for the vampire!" He cocked the pistol and with precise aim, struck Arthur in the shoulder with one shot. Arthur cried out as blinding white pain exploded in his shoulder and he clutched it, blood dribbling through his fingers and staining his coat.

"_Arthur!_" Francis called out. He grabbed Arthur roughly by the back of his neck and pulled him close to his body. But he only did it so harshly because he wanted Arthur out of the way. The human clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, leaning against his master. "I told you to leave, didn't I? Look at what's happened to you… You're injured now…"

Arthur opened one eye, forcing a smile while gazing up at Francis. Breathing heavily, he managed to say, "Are you… going to punish me… for disobeying you, Master?"

"_Non, non!_ Of course not!" Francis said. He hastily ripped part of his sleeve off and handed it to Arthur. "You're in a lot of pain right now. Quickly, get behind me and bandage your wound."

"Y-yes, Master." Arthur took the cloth and went behind Francis as instructed, grunting with pain as he started to wrap the cloth around the wound.

Francis gave the attackers an icy glare. "You've hurt my Arthur," he growled menacingly. "An innocent human, suffering because you're ignorant enough to believe that he was any threat to you." He took an intimidating step forwards. Out of fear, two of the people shot at him, but the vampire wasn't fazed by the bullets. "Each and every one of you pathetic bastards will pay for what you've done to my precious angel."

"_Everyone, fire! He'll kill you if you don't!_" The alley echoed with the several gunshots that pierced Francis's body, but to Arthur's shock, the vampire fell back, collapsing to the ground. He was still alive—just unbalanced. However, everyone continued to shoot at him, stopping him from standing up again.

Tying a quick knot in the bandage, Arthur hurried over to Francis, standing in front of him with his good arm spread out. He would have done the same with the other if it hadn't been tied up. In all honesty, though, Arthur wasn't sure what he was doing. He just had the urge to protect his master; so he created a shield for him.

"Arthur, what the hell are you doing?" Francis demanded, coughing up some of the white pus-like stuff.

Arthur turned to Francis and smiled weakly. "I'm protecting you, Master."

And in that instant, he was struck by exactly eight bullets.

Arthur let out an agonized screech, horrible, hellish pain engulfing him entirely. Blood dripped from his stomach, chest, arms, and his ear where one bullet had nicked it. He clutched at his chest, breathing becoming nearly impossible as one of his lungs ad been punctured, and the agony of his stomach wound was killing him. He stumbled back, falling over next to Francis. Blood leaked out from underneath him, staining his clothes and ash-blond hair a deep crimson.

"Arthur!" Francis gasped, pulling himself towards Arthur. He stared at the bloodied body of his pet below him, face contorted in a mixture of anguish, fury, and confusion. "You fool! Just what did you think you were doing? Oh, God, Arthur… _Mon dieu_, my sweet angel… _Mon dieu, mon dieu_…"

Arthur coughed weakly, sending up a spray of scarlet blood. "I'm… protecting you, Master…" he wheezed out, breaking off to cough again, this time more blood coming out from his lips. He really couldn't help the smile on his face, though. He had never before seen Francis with the expression that he had on now. This must have been his face when he learned of Jeanne's death… Somehow, it felt good to see the vampire like that. Feebly clearing his throat to speak again, he hacked up clots of blood before adding, "My job is… to please you, isn't it… Master?" There was no reply from Francis as he remained leaning over Arthur, the horrified look not fading from his eyes. Arthur turned his head to the side, sighing with great difficulty. "Oh… but… I can't please you anymore… Can I?" He coughed. "Sorry…"

"No…" Francis moaned. "_NO!_ Arthur!" Desperately, he grabbed Arthur's hand, bringing it up to his own face. Arthur turned back, emerald eyes dulled as the feeling of death hung over his head. They didn't even clear up as he saw, to his amazement, tears sliding down his Master's cheeks. "Arthur," Francis sniffled. "Please, please don't leave me… You have to stay. I love you, _mon petit lapin…"_ His voice was choked with a sob. "_Mon cher, mon ange…_ You can't leave me…"

Arthur wiped away Francis's tears on one side of his face, blood smearing over the pale skin as his palm had been previously stained with crimson from clutching his stomach wound. "Don't cry," Arthur murmured. "I love you too, Master—" He broke off, coughing more violently now. Blood sprayed Francis's clothes.

"Don't," Francis urged. Arthur slowly blinked up at Francis once he had stopped coughing. "Don't call me Master anymore. I am Francis." He covered his own mouth with one hand, eyes clouded with agony. Arthur then knew that Francis was sure that his death was inevitable. "My name is Francis Bonnefoy, and you will address me as such," he finished in a strangled whisper. Tears dribbled down on to Arthur's face. Suddenly, Francis opened his mouth again, howling. "Don't you leave me, Arthur! Not now! Not…" he trailed off, voice dropping to a whisper again. "Not now."

Arthur managed a weak laugh, despite his condition. It was because h was happy, thankful that Francis cared about him so much. He loved Arthur, if he would even cry for him. His own heart was filled with joy, as he knew that Francis truly did accept him as a partner. "I love you, Francis," Arthur uttered, before his breath caught in his throat. Suddenly, Francis's shape above him became a dark blur, and the noise around him softened. It was as if, the sun was setting, rolling over the mountains and enveloping the land in darkness; a darkness that would never lift, as the sun would not rise ever again. Everything was slowly fading, even the pain of his wounds seemed to disappear. He let his eyes close, his body relaxing by itself, his blond eyelashes dropping over the emerald orbs that would now rest forever.

However, before everything completely vanished before him, Arthur heard a single voice, cearly speaking with a beautiful, French accent.

"Farewell, Arthur Kirkland. You taught me how to love again."

…

"Thank you."


	19. Epilogue

In the end, Francis was killed. As he held Arthur's body in his arms, making a dash for the mansion, he was shot dead on the front doorstep.

The vampire hunters marched in, slaughtering Elizabeta first. Next was Lovino. Antonio was staked through the heart, and then his body was burned. But he had put up a good fight. He managed to kill one of the vampire hunters for murdering Francis and Lovino. Gilbert was the last, the strongest. But he too fell when he was shot and staked. He died with a smile on his face, a triumphant gleam in his crimson eyes as he passed away, glad to be put out of his misery that he might have carried on for hundreds of more years as an undead, outcast creature who had to kill to survive.

In later years, the mansion was turned into a popular tourist site. People with their cameras and cellphones came in to observe the curious places in the mansion, like the library and the basement.

But the secret room in the basement was never discovered.

Alice's body remained there, untouched.

* * *

><p>Alfred was married to a Japanese woman named Sakura Honda. They had one child, Emily.<p>

Ludwig and Feliciano lived out the rest of their lives as werewolves, and although Feliciano was very upset about his brother's death, and likewise with Ludwig, they kept their heads high and smiles on their faces.

As did everyone else in London. They carried on with their lives as if nothing odd had occurred in their city, nothing involving three vampires; a blond, a brunette, and an albino.

The end.


End file.
